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LONG DRAWS 


A Short Story of the Day, 



- 

/\^'by 

PRESTON. 


UBRiiRY of OOf«6RESS 
Two Coptes Reteivea 

AUG 8 190^1 

CoDyrIffht Entry 

f ^ O l/- 

^LASS XXO. No. 
^ f to^ 
COPY B 


rz3 

kyO 


Copyright 1904, by 

CHARLES ARTHUR AINSWORTH, 
Kansas City, Mo. 


< 

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Pr«4« o/ 

Hudaon-Kimberlv Publishing Company, 
Kansas City, Mo. 


DEDICATION 


TO MY LITTLE GERMAN FRIEND, 

PATSY FERRITER, OF MILWAUKEE, WISCONSIN, 
THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY 
DEDICATED 

BY THE AUTHOR, W. M. PRESTON. 



t 


PEEFACE. 


To my many million Readers: 

No doubt many will say that this work is very 
coarse. I agree with everyone that it is. If I 
did not think it would be condemned, I would 
not write this preface. I know it has no merit. 
Then why do I write it? Simply to amuse my- 
self; not for fame or glory, as I have enough of 
each to satisfy anyone; not for money, as I have 
plenty of that — if need be, I could draw on some 
of my four millions. Then why ? I again repeat 
— simply for my own amusement; nothing more. 

Kespectfully, 

TF. M. Preston. 




i 


LONG DRAWS 


CAKD 1. 

“ilfr. Dudley Rum Dum, 

<<No. mn St., New York City, N. Y,: 

• ^‘Wire me a Grand Century and come to Chi- 
cago on first train. Have one dead immortal 
skinch; starts Saturday. Don^t fail to come, 
yourself. J. Arthur Doughnut, 

^Ttichelieu Hotel, Chicago, Ills.^^ 
Another one of J. Arthur^s good things. I 
wondered if he would ever get one that would 
go through, and here was another, and he desired 
a thousand dollars as a preamble. I supposed he 
would wish about five thousand more. I also 
judged that he had formed the acquaintance of 
some Western turfman and had some race bottled 
up. 

What should I do? Should I go, or not? 
Yes, I would go; but if this scheme fell through, 
I would never, no never, have anything to do with 
any more of his good things. 

7 


8 


LONG DRAWS. 


J. Arthur was the best friend whom I ever 
possessed on earth. We were both bachelors. J. 
Arthur was twenty-eight, whilst I was twenty- 
nine — ^Just one year’s difference between our ages. 
J. Arthur’s family was one of the oldest and best 
known in New York city; members of the Four 
Hundred Club who could trace their genealogy 
back to the eighth century. And they were as 
proud as Lucifer, although, as far as money mat- 
ters were concerned, they had a very moderate 
income. There were four girls in J. Arthur’s fam- 
ily, all of them beautiful. He was the only boy. 

I had very nice bachelor apartments and J. 
Arthur had lived with me for the past nine years, 
or, in fact, ever since my father had died, some 
nine years ago. My father had been one of the 
merchant princes of New York for over thirty 
years. Many old New Yorkers will doubtless 
recollect the great firm of Eum Hum & Van Kiper 
that was situated on lower Broadway in the early 
days. My mother died when I was very young, 
and I was the only child. My father retired from 
business after having accumulated a gigantic for- 
tune, which he entrusted to his best friend, Mr. 
Rufus Onion, the great financier, to be turned 
over to me when T arrived at the age of thirty. 

I had never made any inquiry as to the amount 
of money my father had left, as I had never had 
any occasion to do so. Mr. Onion had always 


LOmG DRAWS. 


9 


honored all of my drafts, no matter how large. 
Only last year, I had drawn on him for over sev- 
enty-five thousand dollars. Most all of the money 
went to back up some of J. Arthur’s wild-cat 
schemes. He had gotten me to buy March cotton 
when everything looked so rosy the way he pict- 
ured it that I did not see how it could possibly 
go down. But down it did go, and I was kept 
so busy putting up margins that I finally had to 
drop cotton, and as soon as I dropped it, up it 
soared, and then J. Arthur was there with his 
“I told you so.” 

At another time he had induced me to buy 
Wabash Preferred, and after I had bought, down 
it tumbled in jumps and bounds. 

At another time he induced me to sell wheat. 
It was the year that the great Northwest had 
the largest wheat crop it had ever been known to 
have; and everything had looked so favorable 
for a big slump. Well, as I said, I sold; when 
up jumped wheat through the machinations of 
some big Chicago speculators, who cornered the 
market, and I sloughed off a big chunk on wheat. 

In fact, I had backed J. Arthur in about thir- 
ty or forty schemes to make money, but we had 
never been successful in a one of them. Still, 
I had confidence in him. I would wire him the 
money he asked for and would also go to Chicago 
myself. I had never been there, although Arthur 


lO 


LOm DRAWS. 


had been there a number of times on short visits. 
As I have said, we were constant companions. 
He had been away from me for over three weeks 
— the longest time we had ever been separated 
from each other for nine or ten years. 

Yes, I would go. Let me see . . . This was 
Monday. I would make arrangements to leave 
New York Wednesday a. m. That would put me 
in Chicago Thursday eve. His coup was to come 
off Saturday. I rang for a messenger and wired 
him I would be in Chicago in person Thursday 
afternoon; to meet me at the Lake Shore Depot 
at 2:30 p. m. Yes, I would take the Chicago and 
Boston Special the next day. I made all arrange- 
ments to leave New York. I called on Mr. Onion 
and had a long talk with him. It was the first 
confidential talk we had ever had. He told me 
that when my father died, he had left me $800,- 
000 ; had made him sole executor, with full power 
to invest the money as he saw fit. He also told 
me that once upon a time my father had loaned 
him a vast sum of money to tide him over a finan- 
cial difficulty, which, if my father had not done 
so, the world would probably never have heard 
of one of its greatest financiers; for had he 
failed, it would have broken both of them. But 
he did not fail. And to-day Mr. Onion is quoted 
at between forty and fifty millions of dollars. 
He told me I would come into my inheritance 


LO'NO DRAW^. 


II 


some time next year, and that he had always in- 
vested my money in gilt-edged securities until 
now he had over four millions to my credit, all 
invested so securely that, no matter what hap- 
pened, I could never possibly know the meaning 
of the word ^Vant/^ I was thunder-struck; I 
had never dreamed that I was possessed of so 
much money. I thanked him with tears in my 
eyes. I was so overcome that I could scarcely 
speak. I drew ten thousand in ready money, 
and also received letters of credit for fifty thous- 
and more, telling Mr. Onion that I had no idea 
that I would need so much money, hut would 
take it in case I might need it. I also made ar- 
rangements to get what money I might want to 
use. I told Mr. Onion that I was going to Chi- 
cago on a visit. He offered to give me personal 
letters of introduction to some of his infiuential 
friends, hut I steadfastly refused^ I told him 
that I preferred to travel incog, as I could have 
a much better time if 1 were known as a man of 
moderate means than I could were I known as 
a wealthy man. He smiled and remarked, “Suit 
yourself.^^ He gave me good some advice, after 
which I took my leave. 

The next morning T was on a Hew York 
Central and Hudson River Railway train, hound 
for Breezeville. I would have much preferred 
the Pennsylvania Central R. R., but I could not 


12 


LOm DRAWS, 


make up my mind to cross the river to Jer- 
sey City. I have one peculiarity, and that is 
a horror of water. In tracing up my pedi- 
gree, I had found out that one of my ancestors 
on my mother’s side had been drowned dur- 
ing the reign of Charlemange, in the eighth 
century; and I had often dreamed that I was 
drowning, and therefore I had as much horror 
of water as the proverbial tramp. I had never 
been on the water in my life. J. Arthur had 
often urged a trip to Europe, but I had always 
balked. He had often pictured the swell times 
we could have in London and Paris, but no; I 
would not have any trip where water had to be 
crossed. Several years before, I had made the 
acquaintance of a Mr. Yamagati, a Japanese gen- 
tleman of culture, and I found him one of the 
most interesting and entertaining gentlemen I 
had ever met. He had often urged me to take 
a trip to Japan with him, but I never would con- 
sent. Ho; no trip across the mighty for me. 

Well, at last I was otf. My trip was unevent- 
ful the first day — about the same as all trips must 
be. There was no one in the sleeper with whom I 
cared to converse. I was awakened for breakfast 
at a place called Clyde, Ohio, and after having 
partaken of breakfast in one of the company’s 
palatial dining-cars, we stopped for a few min- 
utes at Toledo, Ohio, and I got out to stretch, and 


LOm DRAWS. 


13 


walked up and down the platform, never allowing 
myself to get very far away from the sleeper. 
The conductor yelled, “All aboard I started 
to catch the hand-rail, when I noticed a young 
lady running for the sleeper. The train was al- 
ready under headway when she made a grab for 
the hand-rail, but, instead of swinging up on the 
platform, she swung directly across the rails, hut 
she still retained her hold on the hand-rail. In 
less time than it takes to tell, I had grabbed her, 
shoved her up on the platform, and was up behind 
her. She was very much excited, but did not 
seem to realize what a narrow escape she had had. 
Several of the sleeping-car attendants, who had 
noticed the occurrence, at once came to her as- 
sistance and took charge of her. I stalked into 
the smoking-compartment and lit a cigar. After 
I had finished my cigar, the sleeping-car con- 
ductor came up to me and stated that the young 
lady vdshed to speak to me. Of course I knew 
what that meant — three or four hours of sur- 
plus thanks and all of that. Well, I could not 
very well refuse to see her, so I made up my 
mind to get away as soon as I could. The con- 
ductor proved to he quite a gentleman; presented 
me very gracefully and retired. The young lady 
thanked me very warmly. She told me her home 
was in Chicago, but that she had been visiting 
some relatives in Toledo and had telegraphed 


14 


LOm DRAWS, 


her folks to meet the train on its arrival, and 
that was the reason she had been so anxious to 
catch this particular train. She gave me a dainty 
card, which read ^^Miss Violet Ethridge, No. — 
Delaware Place, Chicago, 111.” She was a dainty 
little piece of femininity; weight about one hun- 
dred and ten pounds ; lovely blonde hair; beautiful 
complexion; hands like a baby’s, and a foot that, 
from what I saw of it, I would willingly swear 
was not encased by much over Is — certainly 
by not more than IJs. I promised to call and 
see her as soon as convenient. I told her that 
1 was interested in race-horses and that I had 
never been in Chicago before, but that I had 
a friend there who was looking after my in- 
terests, and that I expected him to meet me at 
the train. 

She asked me the name of my stable, and I 
told her the ^^Harlem.” That was the first name 
that came into my head. I told her my colors 
were dark blue. She told me that one of her 
brothers was a broker and that he operated on 
the Board of Trade. T bade her adieu and 
strolled back into the day-coach. I say ^fi)ack,” 
because that particular road carries the day- 
coaches at the rear of the sleepers instead of in 
front, as they are on most trains. When traveling, 
T always like to sit in the day-coaches and study 
human nature. In the sleepers there is not 


LONa DRAWS. 


15 


much to study, but in the day-coaches I can al- 
ways find something to interest me. The train 
was just pulling out of South Bend, Ind., when 
who comes rushing through the train hut J. 
Arthur Doughnut? He spied me, and for the 
next two or three minutes he was shaking my 
hand and -patting me on the hack. I asked him 
to come up in the sleeper, but he preferred to 
sit in the day-coach. He asked me a hundred 
questions all at once; how everyone was in the 
city, and one would have imagined he had been 
away from there three years instead of three 
weeks. Said he thought he would come down 
the Pike a ways and meet the Battler. 

There was one thing which I had forgotten 
to mention about J. Arthur — ^he was an invet- 
erate user of slang and understood it. In fact, 
I had often caught myself using it. Whenever 
I had spoken to J. Arthur regarding it, he had 
this excuse: ^T^veryone uses slang nowadays, 
from the hanker to the school-girl; they may 
not all use the same slang, but they all use slang 
nevertheless; so what^s the use being a piker 

Well, we sat down behind three farmers and 
they were talking. One of them had a handker- 
chief around his neck. One of his friends no- 
ticed and remarked: ^^What^s the matter. Bill? 
got a cold?^’ ^^Think I have,^^ said Bill; '^my 
utensils are so badly swollen I <?an hardly speak.^^ 


i6 


LOm DRAWS. 


J. Arthur gave me a poke in the ribs and re- 
marked: ^^Get next his ^utensils^?” Bill then 
asked his friend what had become of Dave Mad- 
ison. ^Dh/^ said his friend, ‘^Dave kind of 
skinned everyone around the deestrick and then 
left.^^ ‘^Well,^^ said Bill, ‘‘I always allowed there 
was some fraudery about that fellow.^^ Said he 
had heard the police were after him; also heard 
that he was living in another State under a 
^^consumed” name. J. Arthur nearly fell off the 
seat, hut the conversation never flagged an in- 
stant. One of Bill’s friends said to him: “I 
heard you found ile on your place.^’ ^^So we did,” 
says Bill. ^^Well, tell us about it; how did you 
discover it?” ^‘Well,” says Bill, ^^my hoy Steve 
discovered it on the crick; started to light his 
pipe and threw the match on the crick. The 
crick caught Are and came near burning the 
whole State up, but we flnall}' got it put out.” 
‘^Well,” said his friend, ^^you ought to of got 
quite a lot of money out of your oil well.” Said 
Bill, ^^Guess I would if some of them Eastern 
fellers Hadn’t come along.” '^Why, what did they 
have to do with it?” ‘^Oh, nothing,” said Bili, 
^^only them Eastern chaps formed a synagogue 
and us small fellers had to take just what they 
offered us, or else get nothing.” 

^^-a-l-p-a-r-a-i-s-o,” sang out the hrakeman, 
and the three farmers all piled out. Both J. Ar- 


LOl^a DRAWS. 


17 


thur and I had been laughing our heads off. 
^‘Well/^ said J. Arthur, have heard the English 
language butchered before, but that Kube beat it 
to a pulp.^^ I told J. Arthur about my adventure 
leaving Toledo, when all at once he expressed a 
desire to go forward, as he said, to look after my 
luggage. Of course, we had to pass Miss Eth- 
ridge, and of course she stopped me, and it was 
only natural that I should introduce J. Arthur 
to Miss Ethridge. She repeated her request to 
call on her, and also extended the invitation to 
J. Arthur, which we both accepted, and, lifting 
our hats, we both passed on. ^^Well,” said J. 
Arthur, ^^if she ainT a wax doll, I never saw one ; 
a peacherine ; did you make her mitts — the small- 
est I ever saw on a Broad; will we go out and 
see her? No, someone in Kokomo will go out 
and see her. Has she got any sisters ?” I told 
him I did not know, but I guessed before we left 
Chicago we could find out. J. Arthur gave me 
one look and snorted out, ^^You big bunch of 
shaved ice, donT you ever thaw out in regards 
to women?” ^^No, Arthur,” said I; H have never 
yet seen the woman that I would walk across the 
street for.” "Well, old pal, it is different over 
here; the dear little footlights, I love them all.” 
And I guess he did. 

Well, the check-man came through and Ar- 
thur ordered a cab and turned over the brasses 


i8 


LONG DRAWS. 


for my luggage and we got 0.0: the train at the 
Van Buren Street Depot. It was a lovely after- 
noon in September, and after we had reached 
the street, I asked J. Arthur how far it was from 
the depot over to the Eichelieu, and when he 
told me it was seven or tight blocks, I told him 
that I would prefer to walk, so we dispensed with 
the cab and started to walk. We walked by the 
Board of Trade and J. Arthur pointed it out to 
me. We dropped into ihe Grand Pacific Hotel 
and ordered a quart of wine. J. Arthur was 
very fond of the grape. 

After we had finished the first bottle and 
had started in on the second, J. Arthur cut 
loose: "Well, old pal, I suppose that wire of 
mine surprised you.” 

I nodded. 

"Well, I have given you many a bum steer in 
my life and I\e fluttered around a heap until I 
finally lit, hut I finally landed and I intend to 
play us both even on one grand stab. It was the 
luckiest thing on earth that I stumbled onto 
this. Well, the Hawthorne Eace Meeting opened 
Monday, and last Thursday, a week ago, I got 
out on a wee bit of a toot. I started about two 
o’clock in the afternoon. I bumped into Benny 
Haines and Tommy Vance, and as I had not seen 
either one of them -^'or over a year, we started 
in to make merry. We had several hots at the 


LOm DRAWS. 


19 


Eichelieu; then went up to the Leland and had 
several more, and from there it was only a step 
over to the Auditorium. Well, to make a long 
story short, we never missed any of the good ones. 
Along about 6 :30 Benny went over and got seats 
at the Grand, and we all agreed to go and see 
Francis Wilson in ^Erminie.^ Luckily, he got a 
box, for I dozed all thi'ough the performance — 
did not see a thing, T pledge you my word. 
After the show, we all went down to Da Casta’s 
and had several sours, and then, some way or an- 
other, we got separated and I found myself in 
front of the Brevoort, or, rather. Bathhouse 
John’s Turkish bath parlors. Happy thought, 
I would go down stairs and boil out. I managed 
to stagger down the steps. T expected to find 
the place crowded, but, luckily for me, there were 
only four or five people there. I had often heard 
of Coughlin’s and had ahvays heard that it was 
always crowded with jockeys and trainers, but, 
as I stated, on this paidicular occasion, there 
were only four or five people there. I placed 
my valuables in the safe, disrobed, and landed 
in the hot room. Well, I went through the reg- 
ulation and was placed on a cot alongside of a 
tall gentleman with a black moustache. I tried 
to go to sleep, but no sleep — rolled and tossed 
for five or ten minutes and finally called the at- 
tendant. Could he send out and get me a pint 


20 


L0:tJG DRAWS. 


of boozeoriam. 'No sooner had I spoken than 
my neighbor with the pirate moustache ex- 
claimed, ^It is impossible to get any good booze 
at this time of night/ and that if I would accept, 
he had a quart of rye and he would consider it 
an honor, and so forth. Well, I was very much 
athirst and of course I accepted; then 1 ac- 
cepted again; also again; commenced to feel like 
J. Arthur of old. My friend introduced himself 
— told me his name was C. Chauncey Chestnut; 
that he was a trainer of gallopers, and that he 
had a small but select string out at Hawthorne. 
He also told me that he had been training the 
Sunshine Stable of twenty-four horses, but that 
he had left. He said that he had owned an 
interest in aforesaid stable and that he had 
taken a lot of pains to get a certain horse up to 
a race; that he had gotten it in a soft spot and 
got thirty to one against it, and that the owner 
of the stable had promised to put a *swell com- 
mission on it, but when everything was ready 
he had only bet a paltry twenty dollars, whereas 
he had expected him to bet at least one thousand. 
He said it made him so mad that they dissolved 
right then and there. . He stated that he himself 
owned five horses: one stake horse, two platers 
and two maidens; that he had one maiden that 
had never faced the starter that could pick up 
one hundred and twelve pounds and turn the 


LOl^a DRAWS. 


21 


Hawthorne three-fourths in thirteen and a half, 
and that they were getting the money in seven- 
teen, and that there was not a horse in training 
at Hawthorne outside of his own that could do 
the trick in less than fifteen. 

‘^We got very chumiay; when we got up in 
the a. m. we both had a swell lunch of hot cop- 
pers, and after st owning a couple of geysers un- 
der our belts, I invited him over to the Eichelieu 
to breakfast. Well, there wasn^t anything to it 
after that — he invited me out to see his horse. 
He had him in a private barn over on the West 
Side, separated from the rest of his string. He 
sent for his stable-boy and the hoy took him out 
to the old Garfield track while we took a cable 
car. We got there ahead of the hoy and dropped 
into one of the booze emporiums outside of the 
track and cut into a couple of quarts of the 
product of France. Then we walked over to the 
track. He told me the name of his horse was 
^Someday,^ and that if it was necessary it could 
eat mud, but that he preferred a fast track. 
The boy was there with the horse and he was a 
beaut — a sorrel; I should judge about fifteen 
and a half hands high; he put me very much in 
mind of French Park. You know I saw French 
Park and Fides in a dead heat and that was the 
nearest French Park ever came to losing a race, 
and I was always struck on French Park. He 


22 


LONG DRAWS. 


asked me if I could time a horse, and I told 
him ^No/ He told me anyone could time a 
horse with a split-second watch, and with that 
remark he handed me his elegant split - sec- 
ond watch and requested mine for a few min- 
utes. He explained how it worked. I took it 
and looked as wise as a tree full of owls. He 
told the boy to gallop the horse around the track 
a couple of times and warm him up; then when 
he waved his handlcerchief, to cut loose at the 
half-mile post and let him go as fast as he could. 
Well, the kid did as he was told; I stood with 
the watch in my hand. 1 made up my mind that 
I would not tip myself off, no matter what hap- 
pened. We both stood with watches in our 
hands; he with mine, I with his; and C. Chaun- 
cey dropped the rag. Talk about running — 1 
have seen horses go, but 1 think that horse ran 
faster than I ever saw a horse run before in all 
my life. Maybe it Avas because I was excited. 
Up to one hundred Awards of us he hardH seemed 
to move, but as he flashed by us he seemed to 
be going at the rate of one hundred miles per 
minute. Chauncey snapped the watch with a 
self-satisfied smile and the remark: Torty-seven 
and a half; I guess that will about do, and that 
boy weighed one hundred and eighteen pounds.^ 
Then turning to me, he said, ^What did you catch 
him in ?’ Torty-seven,’ says I, bound not to tip 


WMa DRAWS. 


23 


myself off. 'Well/ says he, 'maybe it was forty- 
seven. But I tell you he is a world-beater.’ 
Then he called the boy over, pulled out a big roll 
of bills, skinned off a twenty and handed it to the 
kid; told him to walk the horse around slowly 
until he cooled off, then take him back to the 
barn. On the way back we cut into a couple of 
more quarts. Then he told me that as far as 
money was concerned, he had none with which 
to play his horse; that he could get him in a 
maiden race Saturday, and that if I liked, I could 
play his horse. He told me it would take some 
little money outside of what was bet; he told me 
he had an under-trainer named Crabb, and that 
in order to keep his month shut, he would have 
to hand him $750 at least; that would keep him. 
from tipping off the good thing to the book- 
makers and also any of his friends; that he 
would engage Chari ev Thorpe to ride for him 
in this particular race, and that he would have 
to hand Charles $250, so that all together it 
would take $1,000 before the horse went out to 
the post, but that would not amount to any- 
thing, as we would get an3rwhere from 30 to 50 
to 1 for our money. I told him that I would ac- 
cept his offer, and that is the reason that I wired 
you to come on.’’ 

Well, we walked over to the Eichelieu and J. 
Arthur introduced me to Cardinal Bemis, a very 


24 


LOm DRAWS. 


genial gentleman. We sat down and had dinner. 
The service was perfect. While we were eating, 
Mr. C. Chauncey Chestnut dropped in, and of 
course I was introduced. Mr. Bemis ordered 
some wine and I wish to state that the wine was 
on a par with the cuisine — ^both excellent. We 
had several more hots and then went to J. Ar- 
thur’s suite of rooms. After some commonplace 
talk, I handed J. Arthur $1,000 and remarked to 
Mr. Chestnut that J. Arthur had explained all to 
me, and that whatever arrangements he made 
would he satisfactory to me. J. Arthur imme- 
diately turned the money over to Mr. Chestnur, 
who accepted it with the remark : ^Tt is the only 
way to protect ourselves and keep the trainer’s 
and jockey’s mouths shut.” He also told me that 
he did not think it would he necessar}^ to bet 
over a couple of thousand, as he was sure the 
odds would he at least 30 to 1 or better, and that 
he would not dare to her even as much as $5, 
as he was so well known, and a bet from him 
might influence the betting, sjid that we, being 
strangers, could place all the money that wo 
wanted to and could get a long price. He told 
us his horse was entered day after to-morrow in 
a five-eighths selling affair — fourth race on the 
card, and that Someday would simply limp in. 
We promised to meet Saturday afternoon in 


LONG DRAWS. 


25 


front of Wheelock’s book, but that we would not 
talk to each other in the betting-ring. 

Then Mr. Chestnut took his departure. 

“Well,^^ said J. Arthur, “what do you think 
of him?^’* I told him he seemed to be a good 
trainer and that he looked to me like a Texan. 
J. Arthur said he had forgotten to ask of him 
where he was from. J. Arthur said that the time 
they were working out Someday that Mr. Chest- 
nut had told him that he had once owned India 
Kubber and that he had won nineteen straight 
races with him; said he had also trained Civil 
Service, Burlington, Blue Eock and Tip Staff. 
Said he knew Windom Walden, Matt Byrnes and 
old man Littlefield ; that the reason that he liked 
to race in the West was that if he did get a horse 
in right, he could always get a good price on it. 

J. Arthur asked me if I desired to take in any 
of the shows, but I told him ^No’ and we retired. 

Next morning we were up bright and early, 
and after a few bowls, ve ordered breakfast and 
I picked up a morning paper. The first thing I 
glanced at was a big killing that Pittsburg Phil 
had made on King Cadmus — something over 
$100,000. I handed the paper to J. Arthur, who 
read it with the remark, guess we will stow 
a few coarse notes in our kick ourselves.^^ We or- 
dered a cab and drove out to Lincoln Park. I 
had expressed a desire to J. Arthur to go out 


26 


LOTO DRAWfi. 


there and take a look at the beasts. They have 
a very fine collection of beasts out at Lincolji 
Park. From th6 park we drove to the North 
Side Waterworks; then through the La Salle 
Street Tunnel; then to luncheon. 

In the evening we went to the Chicago Opera 
House and saw ^^Sinbad the Sailor.” 

Next day we were up early, went to the bank 
and got three one-thousand-dollar bills changed 
up into fifties and one-hundred-dollar notes, ate 
luncheon, and then went over to the Canal Street 
Depot and took a train for the Race Course. 
We were out there by 1 :30 and they had not 
gone to the post for the first race. We strolled 
over to the refreshment-stand and ordered a 
quart, after which we u’alked through the bet- 
ting-ring. There had been about twenty books 
cut in. We passed by Wheelock’s book and 
stopped a moment in front of it. I happened to 
look up a moment, when I saw Mr. C. Chauncey 
Chestnut. He motioned his head to me and I 
nudged J. Arthur and we followed after him. 
He walked outside back of the betting-ring. He 
told us that everything was all right — fourth 
race — and that we had better not show up in 
the ring until the odds on the race had been 
posted; that his horse would probably open at 
about 30 to 1, and that we had both better go 
down the line — one following the other, and to 


LOT^Q DRAW^. 


27 


place about $50 in each book. Then if they did 
not cut his price below 15 to 1, that one of us 
could go back down the line and play some more. 
I asked him if it would be all right to go into 
the caf^ and drink a quart to the success of our 
plans, and he said he guessed that it would be 
all right in there, as all of the book-makers would 
be on their blocks ; so we repaired to the caf d and 
ordered. There were only a few people in the 
place at the time, and the nearest one lo us was 
a young fellow who sat alone with a bottle of 
beer alongside of him and a programme, which 
he picked up every now and then and glanced at 
and put down again. Chauneey helped us put 
away two quarts, then he bade us adieu, telling 
us that he was going over to the stable and that 
in about ten minutes we could go into the bet- 
ting-ring and the odds on the fourth race ought 
to be posted, as the third race had already been 
run, but that the winner had not yet been an - 
nounced. We waited a few moments and got up 
and walked out in the ring. Sure enough, there 
Avas the first betting — Someday, 60 to 1. I 
reached for my pocket-book, but it was not where 
it should be. I felt in all of my pockets, but 
could not find it. It was gone! I must have 
lost it at the table. I told j. Arthur that I had 
lost my pocket-book and for him to go and bet 
what he had and that 1 would go back to the 


28 


LOTO DRAWS. 


cafe and look for my money. I started back, but 
had only taken a few steeps when I was accosted 
by the young fellow who had sat a few tables 
from us. He stepped up to me with a smile and 
said, ^^Going back to looic for your pocket-book 
^^Yes,^^ said I. ‘^Is this it?” said he, as he held 
up my well-known wallet. ^^Yes,” said i, ^‘that^s 
it all right.” He handed it to me with the re- 
mark: ^^It must have worked out of your pocket 
while you sat at the table. After you and your 
friend got up and loft, I saw it lying on the 
chair, picked it up and foUov/ed after you.” I 
thanked him and told him I was in a hurry — 
that I wanted to play this race, but that if he 
would wait until after I had gone down the line, 
that I would like to see him and have a talk 
with him. He said that he w^ould wait for me 
in front of Hoffman’s book, which was the first 
on the line. I started down the line, betting $50 
in each book. The odds were 15 and 20. I 
placed $50 in all but two or three books. They 
had rubbed the price entirely off of Someday. T 
met J. Arthur at the end of the last book and 
told him about recovering my wallet. We walked 
over to Hoffman’s book and there was the young 
fellow standing where 1 had left him. They had 
not gone to the post yet, and I took out two 
$100 bills and handed them to him and told him. 
to bet the money on Someday. I told him we 


LOm DRAWS. 


29 


had bet about $2,500 on him. ^^All right/^ says 
he, ^^al though that is more money than I ever 
bet at one time in all my life. Wheelock^s 
got 25 to 1, and as he is as game a man as there 
is on the block, I will place it all with him.’^ He 
came back in a few minutes with two tickets. 
“I got 25 to 1 for $100 and 15 to 1 for the other; 
4,000 to 200.''^ He started to hand me the 
tickets, but I told him to keep them and if 
Someday won, to give me hack the $200 
and keep the winnings. Then we all went up 
in the grand-stand to see the race. On the way 
upstairs I told the young fellow that there was 
very nearly $60,000 in the wallet he had re- 
turned to me — over $d,000 in cash, and that I 
could afford to be liberal. 

We all sat down in the grand stand. J. Arthur 
had brought out a pair of field-glasses and had 
unslung them. The horses were just going to 
the post — a gray horse with a negro jockey on il: 
went by the grand stand. ^‘There goes Some- 
day,’’ said my new friend. ^^What!” said J. Ar- 
thur, ^^that gray horse Someday? You must he 
mistaken. Someday is a sorrel; and besides, 
Thorpe is a white hoy, while that jockey is a 
negro.” ^^Sorrel, eh?” said my new-found friend, 
as he handed J. Arthur the programme. ^Tjook 
there,” and we both looked: ^^Someday, gray 
filly, two years old, by Great Hopes; dam. Long- 


30 


L0xV(y DRAWS. 


ing. Jockey — E. Williams/’ It was some mo- 
ments before we began to realize things. Then 
J. Arthur spoke up: ^^Well, Dud, old boy, I 
guess we are up against it good and strong.” 

Well, they were oil*. Someday got off with a 
running start and led about fifty yards; then 
he was passed by first one, then another; there 
were twelve horses in the race and Someday 
finished a bang-up last. The race was won by a 
horse named Eecherclie — a 30 to 1 shot. 

We all three sat for some moments before 
any of us spoke. ^^Well,” said my new-found 
friend. ^^Well,” said J. Arthur. ^‘Well,” said 
I, ^fiet’s go and get something to drink.” Wo 
all repaired to the cafe and T ordered a quart. 
After the waiter had filled our glasses, my new- 
found friend spoke up and introduced himself. 
^‘^Gentlemen, my name is Tim Sullivan. I am 
night cashier and waiter in an all-night res- 
taurant on Fifth Avenue and near the corner of 
Madison. I came out this afternon to play 
Maid Marian; I had $20 — was going to bet on 
her. She was entered in the third race, but was 
scratched. I was stu dying whether to keep my 
twenty until she did si art or nlay something else 
when you three sat dosvn at one of the tables. I 
saw Billy get up and leave you.” '^Oh, then, ’ 
said J. Arthur, ^^you know my friend with the 
black moustache?” ^^Know him?” said Tim; 


LONG DRAWS. 


31 


should think I did. 1 thought everyone knew 
Bill Gall. He is one of the smartest touts in 
America. He don-’t get so many suckers, hut 
when he does get one, he gets him for the long 
green. Is he the one that got you to play Some- 
day ^^Yes,^^ said J. Arthur. ^^Well,” said Tim, 
am surprised with him putting you on a 
dead one. He generally plays the favorite.’^ 
‘^Well, he did not have to put us on the favorite 
this time, as we gave him a thousand before we 
bet a cent ourselves.^^ ^AVell, that accounts for 
his putting you on Someday. I suppose it was 
the first horse that come into his head.^^ 

We all got up and Tvent out and caught the 
train hack to town. On the way to town Tim 
asked J. Arthur if Billy Gall had taken him over 
on the West Side and diown him a sorrel horse. 
^^Yes,” said Arthur, and he told him all about it. 
^OVell,^^ said Tim, ^That’s his work all right. 
The horse that he probably showed you was old 
Swifton, an old plug that can run three-fourths 
in about three minutes, hut which can run fifty 
yards as fast as any horse in training.^^ ^^Well,*’ 
said J. Arthur, ^That is what I got for my 
money.^^ ^^Well,^^ said Tim, H knew Billy Gall 
when he used to run amund with a lot of them 
tough potato-peddlers on the West Side. That 
was before he turned out as a tout.” ^Tough, 
were they?” said I. ^^Tough, were they?” said 


32 


LONG DRAWS. 


Tim; ‘Veil, they used to steal each other’s axle 
grease and call it grafting.” 

By that time the trjiin had reached the Canal 
Street Depot, and we all got out and walked up 
Madison Street a few Idocks, and Tim showed 
us where he worked. He told us that if we liked 
to study human nature, to be sure and come there 
some evening; that Ifiere were more different 
classes of people who came in his place than any 
other place in America. I told him studying 
human nature was my long suit, and I promised 
him that he could expect me to drop in most 
any old time; and after we stopped in and had a 
drink, we separated — Tim to get ready to go 
to work, as he said; J. Arthur and I to the 
Richelieu. 


CARD 2. 


“Well, what shall it be to-day? Shall we go 
out to Hawthorne to-day, or shall it be a boat- 
ride over to Milwaukee — one hundred miles on 
the Lake ?” said J. Arthur. This was on Monday 
morning, the second day after our experience at 
the race-track. We were walking on Clark Street 
toward the Chicago Eiver. 

“Hawthorne,” said I, “nit. And as for a trip 
to Milwaukee by boat, Arthur, I am surprised at 
you. You surely know my horror of water.” 

“That ^s so,” said he. “1 had forgotten.” 

We were within a couple of blocks of the river 
and the bells were ringing on the bridge to notify 
the foot passengers to hurry and get across — 
that the draw was about to swing in order to 
allow some boat a chance to get out in the Lake. 
We saw the people running to get across the 
bridge. The bridge was slowly turning when we 
heard several cries, and, glancing in the opposite 
direction, saw something that almost made our 
hearts stop beating — a runaway horse and car- 
riage headed straight for the open river. A 
blonde young lady, whose hat had blown off, was 
standing staight up in the carriage, her hair 
blowing around her face, and was tugging away 
33 


34 


LOm DRAWS. 


at the reins for dear life. An elderly man lay 
in the bottom of the carriage in an unconscious 
condition. The horse was covered with per- 
spiration; huge flecks of foam were dropping 
from its mouth; its 03^8 were ablaze. 

To think, with me, was to act. The horse 
passed within ten feet of us. In an instant, I 
had sprung at the horse and made a grab for the 
bridle. I did not miss it; the horse jerked me 
off my feet and dragged me probably one hun- 
dred feet, but I clung to the bit and brought 
him to a stand-still. The frightened animal was 
trembling like a leaf. I led him up to the side- 
walk an(l J. Arthur assisted the young lady to 
alight. A crowd soon formed, and one of its 
number took hold of the horse^s head and began 
to pat him. A stalwart policeman pushed his 
way through the throng and, with Arthur’s as- 
sistance, lifted the elderly gentleman out of the 
carriage and carried him into a nearby drug- 
store, followed by the young lady, myself, and a 
few of the curious. The policeman ordered the 
people to stand back, but they seemed loath to 
do so. The big officer finally succeeded in rid- 
ding the drug-store of the majority of the hang- 
ers-on, but a number of them still insisted on 
remaining outside. 

T turned my attention to the young lady, who 
had hold of J. Arthur’s hands, and her eyes were 


LONG DRAWS. 


35 


filled with tears. As I turned around, she came 
forward with both hands outstretched; her voice 
was so full of emotion that she could hardly 
speak. 

“Why, Violet — or rather. Miss Ethridge — is 
it really you?” said I. 

“Yes, it is I,” she replied: “and this is twice 
you have saved my life. How can I ever repay 
you ?” 

“By simply never mentioning the fact,** 
said I. 

“That seems too hard a bargain,” said she. 

I looked at my torn clothes. They were all 
covered with mud and had holes in several differ- 
ent places. Besides, I w^as considerably bruised. 

“How did it all happen ?” said I. 

^^Vell,” she replied, “uncle and I were out 
driving and I was showing him the different 
places of interest. We were on our w^ay home 
when Pronto (that^s the horse^s name) became 
frightened at something and started to run away. 
Pronto is a high-spirited horse and heretofore I 
have always been able to control him, but this 
time he seemed to act crazily and got beyond 
my control; to make matters worse, uncle fainted. 
Uncle is a lumberman from in Wisconsin and is 
here on a visit. Poor Uncle Harvey — ^he has so 
much trouble on his mind — no w'onder he fainted. 

I saw that the draw was up, and if you had not 


36 


L02^(3^ DRAWS. 


stopped us when you did and we had gone one 
hundred yards further, we would have all gone 
into the river. I tried in vain to turn Pronto’s 
head up Eandolph Street.^^ 

By this time the druggist had revived Miss 
Violet’s uncle, and she introduced J. Arthur and 
me to him. PTe was a Mr. Harvey Kadford, of 

K , Wisconsin. We all passed outside. By 

this time the crowd had left. Tlie young man 
with whom we had left the horse in charge was 
still holding him. He was rather roughly dressed, 
but seemed to have an honest face. I inquired 
of him if he knew where Delaware Place was, 
and, being answered in the affirmative, I told 
him to take the horse and carriage to Miss Vio- 
let’s number. I handed him a five-doll ar bill, 
to his great astonishment. He thanked me and 
told me that he would do as I requested. 

In the meantime Arthur had called a cab and 
placed Violet and her uncle inside. Violet in- 
sisted that we call and see her that afternoon, 
which we promised to do as soon as I could make 
a change of garments. She said that she would 
expect us. 

We also called a cab and were driven home. 
(I called the Bichelieu ^ffiome,” for I had never 
really known what home was since I was a little 
child, and therefore wherever I stopped I con- 
sidered my home.) 


LOl^Q DRAWS. 


37 


Mr. Bemis had a good laugh when lie saw me, 
and asked if I had been playing foot-hall. J. Ar- 
thur stopped to tell him of our adventure whilst 
I went up to our rooms and changed my apparel. 
J. Arthur soon joined me and made a lightning 
change himself. 

We partook of a light lunch, called a cab and 
were driven to Miss Violet’s home. As we drove 
up to the house she came down the steps to meet 
us. She lived in a beautiful place. We dis- 
mised the cab and told the driver to call for us 
in a couple of hours. 

Violet escorted us into the parlor, and as 
we entered Mr. Eadford arose to greet us. Mr. 
Eadford proved to he a very pleasant gentleman. 
He informed us that this was his first visit to the 
city of Chicago, having arrived hut yesterday; 
that he had been greatly worried over business 
matters. He stated that he had been in the 
lumber business for the past twenty-five years, ^ 
the present time employing two hundred people. 
His mill had a capacity of eight cars per da)% and 
that when he had installed his plant the railway 
company had put in a spur for him and prom- 
ised him all the assistance in their power. 

He further stated that he owned ten thou- 
sand acres of good timber, which was connected 
Avith the mill by a stream of water which he 
could use to convey the logs to the mill. 


38 


LOm DRAWS. 


He also informed us that he had an option 
on twenty-five thousand acres of good timber, 
everything in first-class condition, but never, 
since the plant had been running, had the rail- 
way company supplied him with cars in which 
he could ship his timber. He stated that he had 
never received more than four cars in a single 
day since the mill had been in operation. He 
informed us that he could sell all the lumber he 
could load, but that it was impossible to get 
sufPcient cars. He said that the other mills were 
getting $11 and $12 a thousand feet for their 
lumber, but that he could sell liis for $8 and be 
enabled to make plenty of money at that price. 

He had written to the chief train-despatcher, 
also the train-master, and their replies had 
always been the same: “We are short of box- 
cars — cannot get any.^^ He said that he knew , 
the railway was short of cars, but that other mills 
got cars — perhaps not all they desired, but they 
each received many times the number with which 
his mill was supplied. 

Mr. Eadford went on to say that if he could 
get six cars per da}^, that he could easily clear 
one hundred thousand dollars in the next twelve 
months. He said that he would be satisfied if 
he could secure but two cars a day. He was sat- 
isfied that he had not been getting his pro rata; 
for the past twenty-eight days he had not re- 


LOTO DRAWS. 


39 


ceived one car. He had orders to fill, and if he 
did not get some relief soon, he would have to 
shut down the plant; that he could not afford 
to pay his men under the present sitiuation. He 
stated that all he needed was the cars. He was 
under the impression that the S. & H. Kailroad 
desired him to close his mill. 

He had come to Chicago to see Violet’s 
brother, to see if he did not know of someone 
that would invest some money in his mill and 
go in partnership with him. I asked him, in case 
he could get what money he required, what re- 
lief he could get. He replied that the Gr. & B. 
Eailroad ran within five miles of his mill, and 
that he had talked with some of the Gr. & B. 
Kailroad officials, and they had told him that if 
his mill were on their line, they would guarantee 
him fifteen cars per day. He said he could build 
the five miles of track to connect the Gr. & B. 
Railroad with his mill for four thousand dollars 
a mile ; that he could buy a second-hand standard 
Baldwin engine, as good as he would need, for 
thirty-five hundred dollars, perhaps twenty-five 
hundred; and if the G. & B. Railroad did not 
supply him with cars, that he could buy all the 
first-class box-cars he required for six hundred 
dollars per car. 

I asked him if he could start in right away 
and build the five miles of track necessary for 


40 


LOTO DRAWf^. 


the acliieveraent of liis plans, provided he had 
the money. He replied in the affirmative, stat- 
ing that he would close his plant down until he 
could open it right. 1 asked him where the G. & 
B. Eailroad Company's offices were located, and 
he informed me that they were here in Chicago. 
He said that if he could get the money, he would 
go and see the railroad officials, have them draw 
up an iron-clad agreement to supply him with 
from eight to ten cars per day, as he might need 
them, he to have the option. He said that he 
would not accept any verbal agreement; that it 
must he in writing, drawn up and properly at- 
tested. 

To say that Mr. Eadford had interested me 
would be but mildly putting it. He had thor- 
oughly aroused my sympathy, and I made up my 
mind to see him through, if it took every ox in 
dad’s barn. 

Here was an honest man beyond the shadow 
of a doubt, who had worked twenty-five years to 
get a start, and through the negligence or care- 
lessness of a greedy railway corporation, was 
about to be ruined. 

My mind was made up. As 1 have before 
stated, to think, with me, was to act. “How 
much did you say von had invested in your plant, 
Mr. Eadford?” * !’ , 

“One hundred and twenty-five thousand dol- 
lars,” he replied. 


LO-Ra DRAWfi. 


41 


I turned to J. Arthur and said: “Well, Ar- 
thur, you have steered me against many a had 
proposition; now I will make you one: How 
would you like to become a Hoo-Hoo?” 

Mr. Eadford smiled. Arthur was lost, and 
remarked, “1 don^t know what you mean.’^ 

“Well/^ said I, “I will furnish the money 
needed, $125,000, for one-fourth interest in the 
plant, if it is as you state, Mr. Eadford, you to 
draw up the papers. Mr. J. Arthur Doughnut is 
to be the junior member of the firm, but, as you 
know, Mr. Eadford, Mr. Doughnut does not know 
the least thing about the lumber business, and I 
know he would not devote all his time to it even 
though he made one million dollars per year at 
it. I dare say, though, that there will l3e some de- 
partment in which he can be useful.^’ 

Mr. Eadford spoke up and said, “Mr. Eum 
Dum, if you will do as you say, I will make out 
papers, and yourself and Mr. Doughnut can be 
equal partners in the enterprise. I ’will organ- 
ize the new company and name it the Eum Dum 
Lumber Company, in honor of yourself.” 

“No,” said I, “I shall insist on my own terms. 
Mr. J. Arthur Doughnut is to have 25 per cent 
for the sum of $125,000; as for my part, I want 
nothing. T could put twenty times that amount 
in the busiiness and then would have more money 
than T could ever spend. Why, what you require 


42 


LOl^a DRAWfi, 


is less than my income amounts to in one year’s 
time/^ I spoke this from my heart; 1 had not 
intended it as a boast, but I was excited; prob- 
ably I would not have said what I did if it had 
been otherwise. 

I happened to glance at J. Arthur and Miss 
Violet. They both seemed stunned. Arthur 
seemed dazed and said nothing. 

course/^ said I, have plenty of money, 
but it is tied up in securities, stocks and bonds, 
but, as I said, you can have what money you re- 
quire inside of ten days’ time. Will that be soon 
enough ?” said I. 

^‘Plenty soon enough,” replied Mr. Eadford. 
suppose,” said I, ^That you have heard of 
Mr. Eufus Onion, the great New York financier?” 

Mr. Eadford replied, '^Yes; Mr. Onion is a 
director and stockholder in the O. & B. Eailroad.” 

^^Well,” said T, “that simplifies matters. Mr. 
Onion is my guardian and he was the best friend 
whom my father ever possessed. He has over 
four million dollars to my credit, of which I 
will come into control next year. So you see it 
will not be such a sacrifice on my part, after all.” 

I happened to glance outside and saw our cab- 
driver. I took out my wallet and showed Mr. 
Eadford my letter of credit for $50,000, and 
informed him that he need look no further: 
that all that T would have to do would be to 


LONa DkAW^. 


43 


write to Mr. Onion for $100,000 more and it 
would be forthcoming. 

“Well/^ said Mr. Eadford, ^^there is more 
money in the lumber business than in any other 
business on earth, provided that it is conducted 
properly. As I have previously informed you, I 
have followed the lumber business for twenty- 
five years. I know every detail of it. I have 
been a scaler, a filer and a sawyer, and I know 
the business from A to 

^^Weil, we will bid you good -day. 

Miss Violet spoke up and said: ^‘Gentlemen, 
1 shall insist on your calling again, and that be- 
fore long, as I want you both to meet my brother 
and also my mother, who is up town shopping 
to-day."^ 

She handed us our hats, and she and her 
uncle both accompanied us to the cab. 

We bade them adieu, and as we rolled over 
Ihe streets J. Arthur looked at me and said, 
“Dud, old boy, 1 never would have thought it 
of you; I really never did.^^ 

“Why,’^ said I, “that^s nothing.” 

“iN’othing! nothing to string an old gentle- 
man and his lovely niece like that? nothing T 
and he looked at me in an accusing way. 

“String him?” said I. 

“Certainly,” said J. Arthur. “You did not 
mean what you said to him, did you?” 


44 


LOW DRAWS!. 


It was now my turn to look amazed. I was 
angry. 

^^Did you ever, in all your life, know me to 
tell anyone a deliberate falsehood?” said I. 

“No/' said J. Arthur; “but you spoke about 
Mr. Onion having four million dollars to your 
credit.” 

“So he has,” said I. 

“Forgive me, old boy; I never dreamed that 
you were possessed of one-fourth of that amount,” 
said J. Arthur. 

“And,” says I, “what 's more, you never would 
have surmised it if I had not become so con- 
fidential.” 

“Well,” said J. Arthur, “I have been worrying 
considerably about the money which I have 
caused you to lose, especially this last loss on 
Someday.” 

“Well,” said I, “I was a trifle sore myself, but 
it was not the amount of money we lost, it was 
being played for chumps, that made me sore.” 

“AVell,” said J. Arthur, “the first time that 
I encounter Mr. C. Chauncey Chestnut, I wiil 
knock his blooming noodle olf.” 

“Oh no, you won't,” said I; “let everyone 
know he trimmed us, eh? Oh. no; if we should 
ever happen to run across Mr. Chestnut, or 
rather, Billy Gall, we will not recognize him; if 
he should come up to us with an apology, wc 


LONG DRAWS. 


45 

will tell him that he is mistaken; that we never 
saw him before in our lives. Is it a go?^^ 

^^Y-e-s/^ slowly replied J. Arthur, ^^but at the 
same time, I would like to take just one good 
crack at him; but, of course, I will do as you 
say.” 

The cab was just turning the comer of Clark 
and Madison streets when we told the driver to 
stop. We both got out and I paid and dismissed 
him. As we stepped out of the cab in front of 
Daleys drug store we espied Mr. Tim Sullivan. 

He greeted us with a cheery, ^^Good-day, gen- 
tlemen. Been out taking in the city?” 

We nodded our heads. 

^^Well, I had a date with a party here, but I 
see she has not put in her appearance, and as I 
have several hours before I go on watch, what 
do you say if we take a walk down to the Apollo. 
Ever been to the Apollo ?” asked Tim. 

^^Ho,” we both replied. 

^^Well, if neither one of you has been there, 
we will spend an hour or so there. It is but a 
few blocks up the street.” 

^^All right,” we both replied, and off we started. 
We walked a few blocks on Clark Street towards 
the North Side, until we came almost to the 
same place where I had stopped the runaway 
horse in the morning. 


46 


LONG DRAWS. 


Tim led the way. We came to a stairway and 
Tim darted downstairs, we following. We burst 
into a saloon with thirty or forty tables, and what 
a cosmopolitan crowd there was present! both 
men and women, and, I honestly believe, more 
women than men; yes, as I glanced around, I ob- 
served a ratio of two women to one man. Some 
were dressed in the height of fashion and all 
seemed to be enjoying themselves. We seated 
ourselves at one of the tables. 

One of the waiters came up to our table to 
take our orders. I ordered a quart of cham- 
pagne. Tim said he did not care anything for 
wine; that wine was foreign to his stomach; so 
he ordered a bottle of beer. Tim was bowing to 
almost everyone in the room; he appeared to 
know them all. A couple of females came over 
and sat down alongside of us and commenced 
talking to Tim. 

^^That little waiter who took our orders was 
Jimmy Ice Cream,” says Tim. 

^^Jimmy Ice Cream!” we both ejaculated; 
^‘what a peculiar name!” ^Ts that his correct 
name?” asked J. Arthur. 

^^Only a nick-name,” replied Tim; ^^everyone 
knows him and everyone calls him Ice Cream 
tlimmy. He is a mighty good boy.” 

By that time, Jimmy had brought the drinks 
and had started to serve them. I was just on the 


LONG DRAWS. 


47 


point of asking tlie girls to have something when 
one of them spoke up, saying : ^^What Hh the 
matter with uth girlth having thome wine?^^ 

Bless my heart! the dear thing lisped. I 
started to say, ^^All right,^^ when Tim spoke up, 
saying, ^AVine! why, great heavens! daughter, 
do you know what brand of wine that is?” 

^^hio, thir,” she replied. 

^^Are you accustomed to drinking wine ?” asked 
Tim. 

^^No, thir.” 

thought so,” said Tim. ^^Why, that^s the 
Wish-Wash brand of wine, and one has to he 
a wine-drinker for years before they can even 
drink one glass of it. Why,” said Tim, ^‘if you 
girls should take but one drink of it, it is dollars 
to doughnuts that you would have the gay force 
on the K a berry bi in less than thirty minutes.” 

^^And whatTh that?” she asked. 

“W"hy,” said Tim, ^^everything you eat and 
drink goes right to your stomach.” ^^Hi, Jimmy!” 
called Tim; ^^a couple of tubs of suds, Texas 
size.” And Jimmy brought two large glasses of 
beer. 

geth,” said the girl that had been talking 
to Tim, ^^you don’t theem to remember me.” 

^TSTo,” said Tim. 

^^Well, I ’m Brown Thoda Alith and my lady 
friend’th name ith Mith Jeannette.” 


LOm DRAWS. 


We all bowed to the two ladies, and Brown 
Soda Alice continued: thnppothe yon heard 

all about my beau, Tom?” 

^‘No,” replied Tim. “What about him?” 

“Well,” said the girl, ^Tie got pinthed thith 
morning, but you bet your life I ' ve thtill got hith 
jewelry.” And she dislayed the aforesaid jewelry, 
consisting of three bone collar-buttons and one 
brass one. 

“The copth are pretty thly, but thith ith one 
time I fooled them good.” 

“Good girl,” remarked Tim. “Have some 
more beer.” 

“Ho,” said Alice; “I don’t want any more 
beer, but I would like a Manhattan.” 

“'Certainly,” said Tim; “anything you want.” 
.\nd Alice ordered two Manhattans. 

“What’s the matter with your lady friend?” 
asked Tim. “She don’t seem to have much to 
say.” 

“Ho,” said Alice; “the ’th a married woman.” 

“Is that so?” replied Tim, turning to Jean- 
nette. 

“Sure, Mike,” said that worthy damsel. 

“Doesn’t your husband kick on your drinking 
beer and going around such places as these?” 
asked Tim. 

^TSTaw,” said the girl. “He knows better than 
to kick; he’s such a good-natured brute, he 


LOm DRAWS. 


49 


wouldn’t kick no matter what I done; besides, 
he works all the time and gives me every cent he 
makes. He ’s a gas-fitter and he makes good 
coin. He hasn’t laid off from work hut one day 
in three years, and that was last Friday. I had 
a gentleman friend of mine up to the house and 
we were rushing the can. My husband came in 
the room where we were sitting and said he was 
looking for a •nair of old gloves; he had the gloves 
he was looking for in his hand at the time. I 
told him about it and he left the room. I over- 
heard his brother talking to him that night. Ho 
and his brother were in the next room, and his 
brother was saying, ^Why didn’t you throw that 
guy out of the house on his head?’ and Will — 
that ’s my husband’s name (bless his dear old 
heart! he’s always making excuses) — Will re- 
plied, ^Why, what could I do ? I didn’t know the 
man. If I had of known him, you can just bet 
T would of said something to him.’ ” 

I took a glance around the place. It was 
pretty well filled. There was a party of young 
people sitting at the table next to us — four young 
men and three young girls. They were laughing 
and seemed to be having a good time. They were 
all pretty full, one young fellow in particular; 
he was the one who had no girl. He was a very 
fresh young fellow — one whom anyone could tell 
was not in the habit of drinking. He was very 


50 


LOl^O DRAWS. 


well dressed and seemed to have plenty of money, 
as he bought drinks freely; but he did not Imow 
how to spend his money. He was very coarse 
and vulgar to the extreme. 

An old fellow who I should judge was about 
fifty years old was going around the tables selling 
gum. He came to the table where the party 
above alluded to were sitting and offered his gum 
for sale. The young fellow reached out his hand 
and knocked the gum out of the old fellow^s hand 
with the remark, ^^Get away with that old junk; 
we don’t want any of it.” 

In an instant a dozen persons had surrounded 
the smart young man and several started to lay 
hands on him. The proprietor of the place 
pushed his way through the crowd, caught the 
young man by the shoulders, and set him down in 
iiis chair with the remark, “Young man, if you 
want to stay in my place, you will have to behave 
yourself.” The young fellow and his friends 
started to explain, but the proprietor shut them 
off with : ^TJveryone is welcome in my house, but 
they have got to behave. I told Old Sport he 
could come into my place whenever he wanted 
to, and he can, and anyone that don’t like it can 
stay out. I don’t send any carriages after any- 
one.” And with this parting shot he left and 
went back to his cashier’s desk. 


LOm DRAWS. 


51 

The young fellow sat down at his table and 
ordered more drinks for his party. 

In the meantime Tim had told us about the 
old fellow. 

Said Tim: ^^That^s Old Sport Campana, the 
Fed. He has been in all of the big walking 
matches throughout the country, but he is about 
all in now. He is too old to work at any hard 
work. Everyone knows him and everyone likes 
him. He makes a good living selling chewing- 
gum. If that episode had transpired at some 
places down on the levee, that young fellow would 
have received a good beating, and stood a good 
chance to have gotten killed.” 

Old Sport had picked up his box of gum. Sev- 
eral people had called him over to hand him 
money. He was heading for the door, when Tim 
called him over to our table and handed him 
fifty cents, saying, ^^Hever mind any gum, Sport.” 
Sport had two big tears in his eyes and said to 
Tim: ^TTou know me, Mr. Sullivan; God bless 
you; you know I am no bum; if I was a young 
man, that cub would not have dared to have 
knocked my gum out of my hand.” 

Jimmy Ice Cream came up and handed Sport 
twenty-five cents and told him he just found it 
on the fioor and for him to take it for luck. T 
handed Sport a dollar and so did el. Arthur. Old 
Sport blessed us all, and as he again started for 


52 


LOH^Q DRAWS. 


the door Tim said : ^^Say, Sport, who ’s the 
greatest man on earth ?” 

Back came the answer quick as a flash, ohn 
L. Sullivan.’^ 

‘^There^s a great old character,^^ said Tim; 
^‘he has gotten his own and John L. Sullivan’s 
names tattooed on his breast.” 

We turned to take a look at the young party. 
They were still a trifle noisy, and I could see that 
the young fellow was still looking for trouble. 

'T would like to take one good rap at that 
rat,” remarks Tim. ’ll bet he gets his need- 
ings before he gets out of here.” 

Just then a young girl wearing a Salvation 
Army hat and carrying a bunch of War Cries 
under her arm came up to the table where we 
were installed and, with a ^Tlease buy a War 
Cry,'^ accosted me. I reached my hand in my 
pocket and dug up a silver dollar, handing it to 
her with the remark, '‘Give the paper to some- 
one else and keep the change.” 

J. Arthur and Tim were right there too with 
their pieces of silver, and Tim remarked: "I al- 
ways hand those girls something, although their 
religion is not my religion. Still, they do a great 
deal of good and never do any harm.” 

"But,” says I, "she seems so young; I should 
think she would get insulted. She can’t be over 
eighteen or nineteen and she is as pretty as a 
wax doll.” 


LONa DRAWS. 


53 

said Tim, ‘^donT you worry about her. 
She can take care of herself.^^ 

The lass had passed down the line, stopping 
at the various tables. Some bought her papers, 
others gave her small pieces of money, whilst 
others tried to josh her. Finally, the fresh young 
cub espied her — I call him ^The Cub,^^ for I can 
think of no more appropriate name for him. As 
I said, he spotted her, and, turning to his com- 
panions, remarked: ^Tike the swell little Sal- 
vation Army lass. Watch me cop her out.^^ 

His friends told him to leave her alone. 
‘‘No,” says he, “I am going to cop her.” 

“No, donT you do it; leave her alone; now, 
donT make a fool out of yourself,” spoke up one 
of his friends sitting at his table. 

“No,” says Mr. Fresh, “they are all alike, and 
to prove it, I will bet you twenty dollars I can 
date her up.” 

His companion, seeing that he was in earnest, 
and being pretty full also, replied: “All right; I 
will bet you a basket of wine that you canT 
make a date with her.” 

“All right,” says Mr. Fresh; “I will just have 
her meet me some place and I will take her to 
supper and you people can see me take her. If 
1 donT take her to supper, I lose the wine ; if 
I do, you lose.” 


54 


LONG DRAWS. 


‘‘All right/' said his friend; “although I would 
advise you to leave her alone/^ 

“hiever you mind me/^ says the Cub. “Watch 
my smoke, for here she comes.^^ 

We all had heard the conversation and were 
anxious to witness the outcome. 

Mr. Fresh reached in his pocket and pulled 
out a big roll of bills and scaled off a ten-spot 
and crumpled it up in his hand; then called the 
young girl over to his table and, taking a hold 
of her hand, slipped the ten dollars in her hand 
with the remark, “AVhere can I meet you, sister?’’ 

The young girl blushed, looked at the note, 
unfolded it and put it in her pocketbook, but 
never spoke a word. 

Mr. Fresh spoke again, only in a louder tone 
this time, using the same words, “Where can I 
meet you, sister ?” 

The girl smiled an angelic smile and replied 
sweetly, “In Heaven, brother”; then started out 
the door. 

There were fully forty persons who had over- 
heard the answer, and such a shout went up that 
I daresay was heard at the court-house, two or 
three blocks distant. 

As for the Cub, he was completely dumbfound- 
ed. He was subjected to such an unmerciful 
guying that he finally got up and left, very 


LOl^a DRAW^. 


55 


much chagrined, leaving his friends sitting at 
the table. 

“Didn^t I tell you he would get his dralV"?’^ 
said Tim. “Tell me those girls canT take care 
of themselves.” 

“Well, folks,” said Tim, glancing at the clock, 
“guess I will have to go to work. Where are you 
people going to-night?” 

“Well,” said J. Arthur, “I guess we will go 
to McVicker’s.” 

“Well,” said Tim, “drop around and see me 
after the show.” 

“All right,” we both replied ; “we 11 he around 
after the show is out.” 

After bidding the girls “Good-night,” we all 
got up and left the place. J. Arthur and I went 
over to Eector’s oyster house and Mr. Tim went 
to work. After we had eaten, we walked over 
to McVicker^s and secured seats for Hanlon’s 
“Superba.” 

After the show, we walked over to where Tim 
worked. As we stepped in the place Tim was 
just registering ten cents which a tall young fel- 
low had just laid down for colfee and doughnuts. 

The place where Tim worked was an all-night 
restaurant and I noticed they served a midnight 
dinner in the place. Tim spoke to us and said: 
“Did you gents notice that young fellow who 
passed out as you came in?” 


LOA^a DRAW^. 


“Yes/^ we both replied. 

"‘There "s a duck that can out-stutter anyone 
on earth. It generally takes him ten minutes to 
say "ten cents^ and I guess it would take him ten 
years to say "ten dollars.^ I think he is a race- 
horse tout or else is a booster in some gambling- 
house. He has been coming in here for the past 
two months, every night, playing a ten-cent limit 
coffee and sinkers; never anything else. They 
call him "Frisco.’ I feel sorry for him, for it is 
almost a cinch that he has seen better days. I 
have often tried to start a conversation with him, 
but just as sure as I do, he invariably gets stuck 
on an s. He will chew on it for five or ten min- 
utes; sputter all over me and himself, too; then 
someone will give me an order, and that always 
settles it.” 

Just then in steps Frisco, accompanied by a 
fine-appearing man, who spoke to Tim, saying: 
""We will be back in a minute or so; just going 
to the drug store to get something for a head- 
ache.” 

""Who ’s the swell-looking Gee with Frisco and 
how on earth did he ever get him on his staff?” 
asked J. Arthur of Tim. 

""The swell-looking Gee is Mr. Carter, a horse- 
man from Kentucky, and he is a swell. He al- 
ways drinks wine with his meals. I suppose he 
knew Frisco when that worthy was in better cir- 


LONa DRAWS. 


57 


cumstances. He is not the man to turn anyone 
down because he is in hard luck. If he wants 
wine, I send over to Powers & O^Brien^s for it. 
I suppose he will pay for Frisco^s supper; hand 
him ten or twenty dollars and blow him 

Just then the two returned, and Tim seated 
them at the table and handed Mr. Corter the hill 
of fare. Mr. Carter merely glanced at it and said : 
“Tim, my hoy, bring me a small bird and a cold 
bottle.^^ 

Tim bowed, and, turning to Frisco, said : “And 
yours ?” 

“J-J-J-J-Just b-b-b-b-bring me a sma-sma- 
sma-small b-b-b-bird and a co-co-co-cold bo-bo- 
bottle, too.^^ 

Tim started to the kitchen, but turned and 
came back with a mischievous look and asked of 
Frisco, who had picked up the bill of fare and 
was looking at it up-side-down, “What kind of 
a small bird would you like?^^ 

Frisco never glanced up, but said: 
just b-b-b-bring me a sma-sma-sma-small turkey.^’ 
We gave Tim the laugh, and bidding him 
“Grood-night,^^ after promising to call again the 
next evening, we walked around the corner to 
Bathhouse John^s Turkish bath parlors and 
turned in for the night. 


CAKD 3, 


It was three days later when I was called-up 
by ^phone by Mr. Eadford, who requested us to 
come over to the house. I informed him that we 
would do so. After luncheon, we rang for a cab 
and drove up the beautiful Lakeshore Drive un- 
til we came to Miss Ethridge’s home. Violet came 
down the steps to greet us. We dismissed the 
driver, telling him to call for us in about three 
hours. We were ushered into the parlor and in- 
troduced to Violet’s mother and brother. The 
mother was a fine-looking old lady, whom I 
judged to he about fifty-five years of age. The 
brother was a fine specimen of the hustling, 
bristling Anglo-Saxon race and about my own 
age, twenty-nine or thirty. He was very pleas- 
ant, and informed us that he was a stock broker 
and that his business occupied almost his entire 
time; that he could hardly spare the time to 
eat his meals. 

He and his mother both thanked me for hav- 
ing saved Violet’s life on two separate occasions, 
and, judging from the enthusiasm of his manner, 
I decided that Miss Violet must have made quite 
a hero out of me in relating the incidents. 


58 


LONG DRAWS. 


59 


Miss Violet called her uncle and he came in. 
He informed us that he was slightly indisposed; 
he said that he was not used to so much noise 
and confusion. He sent Violet up to his room 
for some papers, which she brought down in a 
few minutes and which proved to be an iron-clad 
agreement between the Kum Hum Lumber Com- 
pany on the one side and the G. & B. Kailroad 
on the other. 

Mr. Eadford read us the contract, and I am 
doing the railway company but justice when I 
say that the contract favored the lumber company 
in many ways. Violet’s brother, Paul, examined 
the papers and pronounced them perfect. I in- 
formed Mr. Eadford that I would have the money 
for him by the day following the morrow. 

He stated that the incorporation should take 
place in Chicago; J. Arthur should be president, 
while he would be vice-president and general 
manager; that the name of the concern would 
be the Eum Dum Lumber Company, Limited; 
that he named the company in honor of myself, 
providing I gave my consent, which I freely did. 

Violet invited us to luncheon. As we had 
already dined, we reluctantly declined, but she 
insisted that we drink a cup of coffee anyway. 
We accordingly went down to the dining-room, 
where a sumptuous repast was spread. 


6o 


LOI^Q DRA^YS. 


Miss Violet^s mother was a tactful woman and 
a delightful hostess. Whilst neither J. Arthur 
nor myself had any appetite, still we managed to 
get through with quite a course. 

After we had partaken of the luncheon, we re- 
tired to the parlor, where we passed a social hour 
or so. Miss Violet was an accomplished musician 
and was possessed of a good voice. After listen- 
ing to her singing and playing, I invited the whole 
family to accompany us to see Kobert Mantell, 
who was showing at Hooley’s. They accepted 
and we promised to call for them at 7 p. m. As 
I had to attend to the details, I accordingly 
called our cab and we hade the folks adieu; we 
secured a box and then arranged for luncheon 
at Kinsley^s Cafe after the show. 

We then went home to dress, and at the ap- 
pointed time were at Miss VioleCs house with 
two carriages. Miss Ethridge, her mother and 
J. Arthur rode in one carriage, whilst Mr. Kad- 
ford, Paul and myself rode in the other. 

On the way to the theater I told Mr. Kadford 
how dear J. Arthur was to me; that he was just 
like a brother. 1 informed Mr. Eadford that I 
wanted him to take Arthur up to Wisconsin with 
him and try to get him interested in lumber and 
teach him the business. He said that he thought 
he could manage it all right; that if he could get 
J. Arthur to go up there with him, that there 


LONG DRAWS. 


6i 

was plenty of sport to interest him enough to 
make him remain. If he liked hunting, deer and 
bear were in abundance; and as for fishing, none 
better was to be found any place. If the sport 
could keep Arthur in the vicinity long enough, 
he would get interested in the country, and be- 
fore he was aware of it, he would be in the busi- 
ness heart and soul. I agreed to get Arthur to 
accompany him. By this time we had arrived 
at the theater. 

After witnessing the play, we repaired to 
Kinsley^s and partook of a light lunch, after 
which we ordered the carriages. We bade the 
folks ^^Good-night,^^ after promising to call on 
Mr. Radford as soon as I heard from Mr. Onion, 
which would not be more than two days at the 
most. 

We dismissed one carriage and ordered the 
other to take us to the restaurant in which Tim 
worked. We arrived there just as a patron was 
leaving, with his head all bandaged up. 

We had not seen Tim for several days and he 
had gotten very slangy, or else he had never al- 
lowed himself free sway on previous occasions. 

We gave him the customary greeting and then 
I spoke to him thusly: ^Tor heaven^s sake, Tim, 
who was the mark that just went out of here all 
bandaged up, and who soaked him? He must 
have had an argument with his wife and gotten 
the worst of the affair,^^ said I. 


62 


LOl^O DRAWS. 


^^And you must either be a mind-reader or else 
have gotten a peep inside of his trunk. His 
wife did soak him, and I was the innocent cause 
of it. It happened this way: His name is Miller; 
he and his wife run a saloon across the way. She 
really runs the place, tends bar and does all the 
work. He lays around on the outside and boosts 
the bar; drinks with everyone that asks him, 
never refusing. If the first man orders beer. 
Miller takes beer; if the next one whisky, same 
for Miller; wine, same for Miller. Allee same 
Pndd Malcom and Miller’s capacity is about the 
same as Pudd’s, only Miller does not come back 
and buy the same as Pudd does. 

"Well, I am always stringing Miller whenever 
I get a chance. The other night he came in and 
ate a lunch; after he had finished, I commenced 
to sniff and look at him, finally saying, TVIiller, 
you smell just like a nigger.’ 

^Tle went right up in the air and said : ^Tim, 
T don’t like dot; I am your friend and den you 
talk such a way.’ 

said, ^Oh! that’s all right. Miller; that’s 
only a joke. You see a negro smells with his 
nose and you smell with your nose, consequently 
you smell like a negro. See? 

"^Ha! ha! dot’s a good one; I tell dot to 
Katrina right away.’ 


LONG DRAWS. 


63 


tore out of the place on a hop, skip and 
jump so he would not forget it. His wife was 
just tapping a keg of beer when he rushed in. 

‘Give me a glass of beer. Say, Katrina, you 
stink like a nigger.^ 

‘‘Katrina paused and said: ‘What^s dot?^ 

“ ‘Don^t you get excitement; dot^s only a 
joke; don’t you see? A negi-o stinks and so 
do you.’ 

“Katrina landed with her mallet on his cocoa 
instead of the beer, and you just witnessed the 
result. He got things mixed up. 

“Pipe this hunch that just came in; they are 
good for a ten-spot at least.” 

“Who are they, Tim?” 

“Oh! they ain’t no one a-tall, 1 guess; only 
four passenger conductors. They are here at- 
tending their convention. Wait till I take their 
orders and I will come hack and talk to you.” 

As Tim left us and got busy with his orders, 
I said to J. Arthur: “I wonder if Tim knows 
them.” 

“Search me,” said that worthy. 

It did not take Tim very long to take the 
orders and also serve them, as they were good 
livers and knew what and how to order. While 
they were eating, I asked Tim if he knew them. 

“Sure, Mike. See the little fellow ? That ’s 
Abe Angle, of the Monon. The one opposite 


64 


LONG DRAWS. 


him is Yank Hibbard, of the Vandalia. The 
one facing the south is Harry Smith, of the 
Big 4; and the other one — the one who is mak- 
ing all the noise — is Bill Mitten, of the 0. & 
M. Eailroad. Mitten is a great stor 3 ^-teller and 
a josher for fair. Yon see bow different pas- 
senger conductors are from other railroad men. 
They never talk shop. In fact, you can never 
get them to talk railroad when off duty. 

^The other night I had a lot of freight 
brakemen and switchmen in here, and all you 
could hear was ^flying switches,^ ‘second twenty- 
ones/ and ‘doubling the hills. ^ 

“I came near getting run over a couple of 
times dodging box-cars; I thought I was in some 
freight-yard.” 

Just then Mr. Hibbard called Tim; they 
Avere through supper and were ready for their 
coffee. They all ordered coffee except Mr. Hib- 
bard, who ordered coffee royal. I could see by 
Mitten’s eye that coffee royal was a new wrinkle 
to him, although he was a good liver and knew 
how to order. 

He watched Tim pour the brandy in the 
coffee and touch it off, and as the blue blaze 
shot up, he jumped from the table and A^elled. 
^Tt don’t go — oh, no — not for my dough!” 

‘^WhA% Avhat’s the matter?” all three asked 
in the same breath. 


LOm DRAWS. 


65 


‘‘What^s the matter replied Mitten, who 
was very much excited and had commenced to 
splutter; “oh! nothing a-tall, I guess. Of course 
1 lost the suppers and I defy anyone on eartli 
to say that I am a cheap skate. I would not 
care if the suppers came to fifty dollars, hut 
when anyone 'starts to build bonfires out of my 
dough, it don^t go.’^ And he gave the table a 
mighty whack. 

Of course explanations followed, after which 
they all left. 

After they had gone, I said to Tim: “How 
do you feel?” 

J. Arthur had gone to the drug store on the 
corner. 

“Well,” says Tim, “I feel like plugged money. 
I thought I h^d seen them all, but I just had 
the toughest gazabo in here I ever met in all 
my life. He Avill be back in a few minutes, and 
he is the richest card you ever met. He came 
bolting in here like as if he was John Thomas 
Brady, just arrived from St. Louis; sized me up 
and says: Tan I speak to you as a gentleman?’ 

“^Blaze away,’ says 1. 

“He had a big quart bottle which he set 
alongside of him. 

“^Well,’ says he, T am a grafter — see? and 
I am dere wit de Jimpson weeds, de Johnson 
grass and de magnolias. I wasn’t left on any- 


66 


LOT^a DRAW^. 


one’s door-step — see? I wants to borrow four 
bits from you for five minutes, den I will blow 
back wit de cush — see? and you ken be in wit 
me graft — see?’ 

“I weighed him up a second and said: 'Me 
let you take four bits?’ 

'"Yes,’ says he. 

" 'I might let you liave it on your right eye,* 
says I. 

"He stalled a second and reached up and 
with his fingers dug his right eye out and laid 
it on the counter with the remark: 'It’s a 
pretty tough prop, but I needs de dough.’ 

"If that yegg didn’t have a bum lamp I hope 
to die. I handed him the half with the remark, 
'You can keep your optic, but the next plug that 
lands me for fifty cents will have to leave both 
of his eyes.’ 

"'Oh!’ says he, 'I suppose you are another 
one of dem Missouri guys.’ 

"'I confess that I am from that glorious 
State.’ 

"'Well, I will be back in five minutes,’ says 
he. 'I am a grafter and I am dere wit de jimp- 
son weeds, de Johnson grass and de magnolias. 
Ask Tony Rourke if I ain’t. I wasn’t left on 
anyone’s door-step.’ And he grabbed his big 
black bottle and was out before I realized it. 

"Here he comes. Pipe.” 


LO^Q DRAW^. 


67 


^‘Dere^s your half a suskin; didn^t I tell 
you I was a grafter? Tell me dat six bits ainT 
seventy-five cents. Now you can be in wit me 
play/^ says he, and he laid the bottle on the 
counter. 

^^Have you an old tin can, a couple of lem- 
ons and some ice? Den bring dem to me.” 

Tim says: “I will go all the way through 
with this bloke.” And he dug up a tin can that 
had done service as a growler, also the balance 
of the stuff. 

‘T)ey calls me Seldom Seen,” says the yegg, 
'^and I am dere — see? Now,” he says to Tim, 
‘^give me a bowl and a hammer.” 

Tim brings them. 

^^ow,” he says, as he starts to make the 
decoction, ‘T dl put you Joseph to me graft. 
When I went out of here I went around de 
corner and goes into dat swell saloon. I always 
picks out a swell dump. I walks up to de poi- 
soner and hands him me bottle and says, ^Give 
me a quart of rye,^ den stalls away till he fills 
de bottle, picks up mister bottle and hands 
him half a dobe and makes a lammass for de 
door. 

^Hold on,^ says the barkeep, %hat ’s dis T 

^Dat ^s for de booze,^ says I. 

^What do you tink dat is,^ says de barkeep, 
Vhite line ? Dat stuff costs $1.50 a quart whole- 
sale,^ says he. 


68 


lAmQ DRAWS. 


“ ‘Well/ says I, ‘de day man always let me 
have it for fifty cents/ 

“ ‘Well, de day man don’t know his business/ 

“ ‘Well, dat ’s all I got, and I can get it from 
him for fifty cents, so you will have to take your 
junk back,’ and I handed him the bottle and 
he poured it into his demijohn and I screwed 
back here.” 

By that time he had his decoction mixed, 
picked up his bottle, hit it a rap with the ham- 
mer, took out a big sponge and squeezed about 
a pint of whisky out of it. 

“Didn’t I tell you I was dere,” says he, as he 
noticed our look of surprise. He poured some 
of the booze in the can on top of the lemons 
and sugar; took two glasses and poured out some 
for each of us, and said: “Dat’s a Dick Smith 
and de finest drink on ert.” 

“Tastes to me like a whisky sour,” says 
Tim, “only lots better.” 

“It is a swell drink,” says I. 

“Mighty fine,” says John Yegdom; “dat was 
named after its inventor; and because it tastes 
so good was ’cause it was made in an old tin can. 

“Don’t you know beer always tastes better 
out of an old tin can? Dat’s because tin is de 
coldest metal known. How I km going to blow, 
and I wants to touch you for two bits to go and 
Eip on — see ? And I ’ll come in wid de goods 
next time I drops in — see?” 


LOm DRAWS. 


69 


says Tim. 

^^Yes, Rip,^^ says Seldom; “Kip Van Winkle 
— sleep.” 

“Well,” says Tim, “I have heard it called 
^kip,^ ^donse,^ ^pad^ and ^flop,^ hut ^Rip’ just 
heats me two hits^ worth.” And he handed Sel- 
dom the two hits. Seldom starts to the door. 

“I told you I was dere wit de Jimpson weeds, 
de Johnson grass and de magnolias, and I wasn’t 
left on anyone’s door-step. I told you I would 
pay you your half man and dat 1 would not pay 
you in conversation — see?” and he lammed out 
the door. 

As Seldom went out of the door J. Arthur 
came in. J. Arthur spoke to Timothy thusly: 
“You seem pretty gay this evening, Timothy.” 

“Yay, J. Arthur; that’s my natural effer- 
vescence.” 

“Anything doing to-night?” 

“hTot muoh. Did I ever tell you hoys about 
fhe rum that comes in here every night and al- 
ways eats from ten to twenty-five cents’ worth, 
always paying me in pennies? Fact; guess he 
must rob his baby’s hank. But I am laying for 
him. See this old grip ? Well, he has not missed 
a night in two or three months. T told the boss 
about him and I brought this old Keister of 
mine down here to put all the pennies which 
he gives me in, and sooner or later he will hand 


70 


LOm DRAWS. 


me a note and then — well, then my revenge will 
be something terrible. He gets them all. Ha ! ha ! 
Revenge is sweet. Stick for the big show and 
see it come off, as it is bound to happen sooner 
or later.^^ 

Just then a couple came in — a young printer 
and his girl. I surmised that they had just 
come from one of the North Side dances. I 
thought I had seen them all, but no; this Broad 
was a dream, or rather, a nightmare. Her arms 
were bare ; she had on a short dress, white 
stockings and blue satin slippers. 

They sat at a table while Tim stalled out 
to the kitchen. I heard Tim call her Rio 
Grande. 

She was saying: ust; ustn’t you?^’ and, 

“Quit: now do you know it?^’ 

Tim came up with the menu card. The 
young fellow ordered ham and. She stalled and 
stalled and finally ordered a woodcock. The 
young fellow was not papng much attention to 
her order; in fact, Tim had gotten half way to 
the kitchen when he began to realize, grabbed 
the bill of fare, glanced at the price — $1.25, 
woodcock — and yelled: ^^Nix; come back here.^’ 
He turned to the girl and said: ^^What did 
you order 

‘^^hy,^’ she answered, ordered woodcock.’^ 

^^What! a whole one ?’’ 


LONG DRAWS. 


71 


‘^Why, certainly/^ said she. 

“Did you ever eat one before?^* 

“Why, no.^^ 

“I thought noV^ he said; “they are as big as 
a turkey; you could not eat one in a month.^^ 
Then to Tim: “Here, waiter; bring us two nice 
half-stews.^^ 

He breathed hard when he paid his check, 
looked wise at Tim and whispered, “Gee! that 
was a nose finish; I was only half a case strong.” 

Just then in came a coon; aged between for- 
ty and fifty. 

T said to Tim: “Do you serve shines here?” 

“Yes,” said he; “watch how I serve this 
one.” Walks up with his con smile and says: 
“What will it be?” 

“I wants some pork chops and coffee.” 

“One order of pork chops,” sings out Tim; 
turns to Mr. Dinge and says: “Where do you 
work. Buddy?” 

“I works for Mr. Winterble, sah; Mr. Butch 
Winterble, sah. Mr. Winterble am a race-horse 
man, sah.” 

“Oh, yes: I know Mr. Winterble very well,” 
says Tim; ^fiie is in partners with Dan O^Heil.” 

“Yes, sah; dat’s de man, sah.” 

“Then,” says Tim, “you must know some- 
thing about policy.” 


72 


LOm DRAWS. 


^^Then I want you to interpret a dream 
for me/^ 

^^es, sah.” 

"T[ can't win a bet at anything else; maybe 
1 can beat policy." 

'^All right, sah." 

^^Well," began Tim, "^To-day (I sleep in the 
day-time, you know) I dreamed I met a cross- 
eyed man." 

^T)at's a hoodoo," said the coon. 

^^He carried a cotton umbrella under his arm." 

^^0 Lord!" said the Dinge. 

‘Tie had the left hind leg of a graveyard 
rabbit in one hand and a yellow clarionette in 
the other." 

‘TToure a dead man before morning," said 
the coon. 

‘T)on't you ever think it," says Tim; “be- 
fore my grandmother died she told me if I ever 
got hoodooed, to cast it out on the first black 
man that I saw, and as you are the first one, 
here goes." And he began making passes with 
his hands. 

The negro's eyes began to roll, and he ex- 
claimed: “Don't you do dat, white man; don't 
you do it; if you do, T sure will butt you." 

Tim made no reply, but kept adyancing. 
The coon gaye one yell and tore for the door. 
We nearly died laughing. I went to the door, 


LONG DRAWS. 


73 

but there was no sign of mister coon, so I went 
back. 

^‘^Iloly smoke!” says Tim; ^‘here comes an- 
other.” 

This coon was a young one, probably about 
twenty-five years old. 

‘^Watch me land him,” says Tim. 

He makes the same stall and begins like this : 
‘'^How would you like to make a little easy money. 
Buddy?” 

“First rate, sah.” 

“Well, this will be easy coin for you. There 
will be a brand-new suit of clothes that will 
just about fit you, and a solid gold ring.” 

“Yes, sah.” 

“And about $150 in money. All you have 
to do is to bring me the one fifty and 1 will give 
you 10 per c«it of it.” 

“Y’es, sah.” 

“Mr. Pratt,” calls Tim, and offices me over. 

“This young man is just the man you want,” 
says Tim. “Mr. Pratt, Buddy, is the head of our 
faculty.” 

“Yes, sah.” 

“How, Bud, of course you know where Eose 
Hill Cemetery is?” 

“Y'es, sah; I used to deliver groceries to Mr. 
Bob London out dere, sah.” 


74 


lo:ng draws. 


‘^You don^t mean to tell me that Bob is a 
dead one?” 

"Oh, no, sah; he is alive.” 

"Well, Mr. Pratt will go with you out there, 
and all you vnW have to do (everything is all 
ready) will be to simply kick in the lid, put the 
grappling liook under his chin, yank him up, 
put him on your shoulder, carry him one hun- 
dred yards, and Mr. Pratt will do the rest.” 

The coon^s eyes were rolling and he was on 
the verge of a spasm. 

"What are you talking about, white man?” 

"'Why, robbing a grave, you fool. You ^re not 
afraid, are you? The worst that they can do 
if they catch you is to hang you.” 

The coon had been edging to the door all 
the time, and kept cracking: "No, no, white 
man; I donT want no 10 per cent, no dead man’s 
clothes, no gold ring. Good-night.” And he 
was gone like the Empire State Express. 

We all laughed. 

‘T)id you ever fail to connect, Tim?” I asked. 

"Only once,” says he; "an ordinary-looking 
Binge came in here one night and I tried to 
throw the scare; never phased him. I half 
flashed, full flashed, counted him on twenty- 
eight; gave him the hlow-ofl and the tare-ofl: 
he only played hack over me, so I had to lay 
down my hand. 


LONG DRAWS. 


75 


‘^1 finally said. Tor Heaven’s sake, who are 
you ?’ 

^^He handed me his card, which read, ‘Ben- 
jamin Thornton, Detective, Central Station, In- 
dianapolis, Ind/ 

“He smoked the best cigar I had in the 
house. He was the smartest Dinge I ever met.” 

Just then in came several men. 

“His pennies,” says Tim, “the little skinny 
bloke; I hope he is there with the soft, so that 
I can get hack at him.” 

Tim took their orders and came hack to me. 

“Who ’re the two with him?” I asked. 

“Two Dicks,” replied Tim. “That tall, dark- 
complected fellow is a fiy Boh from Cincinnati, 
named Herman Witte, and he is a wise fisl^.. The 
other is Jimmy Bailey, of the Central, one of the 
smartest fiy Bobs in Chicago, hut their being 
with him wouldn’t prevent me from dumping 
these pennies on him if he hands me a coarse 
note. I would slump them on him if I got a 
chance, even though Jack Shay or Billy Pinker- 
ton was with him.” 

By that time the trio were through eating. 
I saw his spindles pick up the checks, and I very 
nearly fell dead when T saw him weed out a 
ten-spot and lay it on the counter. I nudged 
J. Arthur and he hunched me had:. I saAV Tim’s 
eyes snap with joj^, and I could almost hear him 
say, “At last !” 


76 


LOm DRAWS. 


He copped the ten in his mitt, so as to be 
sure that it could not get away; then, with his 
bull con smile, said, ^^Excuse me,^^ fished up 
his old turkey and opened it up, dumped the 
pennies out on the counter and began to count 
them out in piles and size them up. 

^^What are you doing says the Gee. 

will have to give you your change in pen- 
nies,” says Tim. 

‘^All right,” says the Gee; ^^you can count me 
out twenty-five of them.” 

'T will count you out all of them,” says Tim. 

^^Oh, no, you wonT,” says the mark. 

'^Ain’t they United States money?” asked 
Tim. 

^‘Yes.” 

Ain’t they legal tender?” 

^^Yes,” said the Gee, ^They are legal tender 
for twenty-five cents; no more.” 

Tim looked at J. Arthur, myself, Bailey, 
then at Witte. 

^^Yes,” we all four said at once; ^That’s 
right.” 

I remember I had heard it decided once be- 
fore, but had forgotten all about it. 

Tim gazed all around the room, first at one. 
then at the other, then fell to the floor in a 
dead faint. 


CARD 4. 

Well, the money came the next day, and we 
called on Mr. Eadford and all drove down town. 
The papers were all made ont and the Eum Dum 
Lumber Company, Ltd., was incorporated and 
launched. Mr. Eadford was a first-class busi- 
ness-man and attended to all the details. He 
made the contracts to have the five miles of track 
built, bought a second-hand locomotive, and made 
contracts with several large lumber firms to ship 
them his lumber, said lumber to he delivered 
after a certain number of days had elapsed. 

In fact, having secured the necessary equip- 
ment, he proved to show wonderful tact and 
skill in managing the business. We both con- 
versed with J. Arthur, who consented to go to 
Wisconsin with Mr. Eadford. They were to leave 
Chicago the latter part of the week. 

We hade Mr. Eadford ^^Good-day” and re- 
turned home. As soon as we arrived at the of- 
fice, Mr. Bemis handed me a telegram. Upon 
opening it, I found it to he a message from Mr. 
Onion, stating that my uncle, Scotty Bolen, had 
written to him asking if I was home in New 
York, to which Mr. Onion replied that I was in 


77 


78 


LOl^Q DRAWS. 


Chicago; whereupon Uncle Scotty wrote again, 
asking for my address. Mr. Onion stated that 
he had sent him the desired information and 
that I might expect to see him in Chicago at 
almost any time. 

Uncle Scotty was no relative of mine, but was 
a very intimate friend of my father^s and was 
generally called ^^Uncle Scotty^^ by his associates. 

When I was but a small lad, he once called 
on my father, and I remember what a funny little 
old man he was. He had given me a big Can- 
adian one-cent piece and had told me to run out 
and buy myself some oranges and candy. After 
his departure, my father had asked me to always 
be kind to Uncle Scotty when I grew to man^s 
estate and never to refuse him anything. I re- 
membered it as though it were but yesterday. 
My father never had to tell me twice what he 
wished me to do. 

J. Arthur ^phoned over to Miss Violet and 
asked her if she would go to the Columbia with 
him that evening, to which she acquiesced. He 
also invited me to accompany them, but as I in- 
tended going to the Olympic to see a vaudeville 
show, I declined, telling him that I would be 
over at Tim’s until two or three o’clock; perhaps 
later. 

I had gotten very fond of Tim; I liked his 
ways; he appeared so natural. 


LOl^a DRiWFi. 


79 


We walked down Monroe Street until we came 
to State Street. Passing by Peacock^s jewelry 
store, I saw a watch in the window that struck 
my fancy, a beautiful Howard. I priced the 
timepiece — $250. I purchased it at once, to- 
gether with a nice chain. The chain cost me 
$50. I stuck them in my pocket and walked out. 

J. Arthur did not ask me what I intended to 
do with the purchase and I did not enlighten 
him. After we had eaten supper — I call it 
supper now; I formerly always called this meal 
dinner — we. walked over to Madison Street and 
separated and I started for the Olympic. 

On the way to the theater I got to thinking 
what an idler I was getting to be, and how slangy 
I was becoming in my ordinary talk. Only the 
other night, I had caught myself asking Tim, 
‘^Who was the Gee? and the mark? the Hinge ?^’ 
and all of that stuff; and I made up my mind 
that, as far as I was concerned, I would cease 
using slang, once and for all. 

After the show, I walked over to where Tim 
worked and, after an exchange of civilities, said: 
^'Give me a cup of coffee and a piece of apple 
pie, Tim.” 

"Apple pie is dead ; mince and peach are both 
cases,” said Tim. 

"You must have been playing faro bank, 
Tim.” 


8o 


LOT^a DRAWR. 


^Tlaying the hank? Think I have; played 
it all my life and never heat it once. 

^^Well/^ says I, \e often seen the game, hut 
I know absolutely nothing about it. How do you 
play bank, Tim ?” 

^^Well,^^ said Tim, ^^you know the dealer shuf- 
fles the cards and puts them in the box.^^ 

^^WelV^ continued Tim, ^^suppose you bet $10 
on the jack.^^ 

^^Yes.^^ 

^^Well, two jacks come along; dealer takes 
half of your money.^’ 

^^Yes.^^ 

^^Well, one Jack comes along; dealer takes it 
all.^^ 

^^Oh! I see; just as clear as mud — after you 
see through it.^^ 

^That^s the 

‘^Who ^s the priest sitting over at the table ?” 

^Triest? That^s no priest; that^s Eddie 
Mines, of Detroit.^^ 

^^Well,^^ says I, ^flie looks like a priest; what 
does he do, anyway?^’ 

“Oh \” says Tim, ^flie is introducing some kind 
of a new separator; it is a great money-maker.^^ 

“And the gray-headed man, the other man 
with him?^^ 


LONG DRAWS. 


8i 

^^Oh! that is Frank Tripplett; everyone calls 
him ‘Trip^; he is the inventor of the patent 
milker, also a great money-making device/^ 

‘^And the other two?^^ 

“Well/^ says Tim, ^The one opposite Mines 
is Kent Marshall. He is a crank on electricity; 
he sells more electric belts than any one man 
in the country. Marshall’s favorite expression 
is ^git up.’ The last of the four, the one with 
the big fierce pirate moustache is Ed Kirby, a re- 
tired farmer of Logansport, Indiana. He also 
has been a great traveler.” 

Just then a man with a watch-chain as big 
as a saw-log chain and a diamond — or, as Tim 
afterward called it, a prop — as big as a hickory 
/ nut, walked up to the table and shook hands all 
around. 

Alderman, I suppose,” says I. 

^^Ko,” says Tim, ‘‘that’s big Jack O’Brien; 
promoter — or showman, rather. He is the man 
that first introduced the striped gazabo. He 
is also the first man that ever had the ring- 
tailed rouser. Box-cars are called after John 
O’Brien. You have frequently heard them called 
‘John O’s.’ I suppose they are called after him 
because they are so big. The first time that I 
ever saw Jack was several years ago at a fair 
lield at Monticello, Illinois. He, Tom Curry 
and big Jerry Douglas were there broke. They 


82 


LOtfO DRAWS. 


})ad a big tent, but no money; no attractions; 
so they went and got a big common rooster and 
put him in the coop in the center of the tent. 
Jerry and Jack got on the outside and left Tom 
on the inside and made the greatest Ballyhoo of 
their lives, as they were both swell spielers. Of 
course, all the gang shilled in and ducked right 
out on the other side of the tent. I stuck, as 
T wanted to see the blow-off. Well, the crowd 
kept getting larger and larger; there was noth- 
ing to see only the dunghill and Curry. The 
latter was standing with one arm resting on the 
side of the coop. The chumps looked like a 
bunch of lost sheep in Oklahoma. Finally, one 
chump goes up to Tom and says, ‘What have 
you got there 

“‘A rooster,^ says Tom. 

“‘What kind?^ says the Eum. 

“‘A Yuhooda,^ says Tom. 

‘“Weiy^ says Mr. Eube, ‘what is there so 
wonderful about him?^ 

“ ‘Why,^ says Tom, ‘I killed his father.^ 
“Well, it was pretty soft going in Monty, but 
they wouldn’t stand for that show, and they all 
had to tear for the stumps. I never did find 
out what became of the rooster.” 

The gentlemen all got up and left. 

I asked Tim if the restaurant was a good one 
for making money, and he answered that it was 


LOl^a DRAWS. 


83 


one of the best in Chicago; that the day trade 
was simply immense and the night trade fair. 
He said that the place cleared anywhere from 
forty to fifty dollars per day. 

I liked Tim very much, so I said to him: 
“Tim, do you think the prop would sell out 
this place?” 

Tim replied that he did not know, but that 
he supposed that the prop was like most any 
other man — he would sell if he got enough 
for it. 

I therefore said: “Tim, how would you like 
to own this place?” 

Tim looked at me; then slowly said: “Mr. 
Rum Dum, do I look like a crazy man?” 

^‘No said I. 

“Well,” said Tim, “then I will tell you why. 
If I owned this place, I would be either dead 
crazy or in the penitentiary inside of six weeks.” 

“How's that,” said I. 

“Well,” he replied, “if I owned the place, I 
would make — say anywhere from forty to fifty 
dollars per day.” 

“Yes,” said I. 

“Well,” said Tim, “I would have good credit 
and inside of two weeks I would have this joint 
on the high card, and not only that, but I would 
owe everyone in Chicago from whom I could 
borrow. I never would get out of debt. No, 


84 


LONG DRAWS. 


no. As it is, I get fifteen dollars per week. I 
don^t owe anyone anthing that I cannot pay 
and I am contented. I am all right the way it 
is, but I would be all wrong if I owned the joint.’^ 

‘^All right, Tim,^^ said I; ^^of course you 
know best.” 

Then I drew out the watch and handed it 
to him with the remark : ^^Here ^s a little pres- 
ent I got you to-day.^^ 

Tim took it out of my hand. His face lit up 
and he answered: ^^Mr. Kum Dum, whatever 
possessed you to buy me such a nice present 

I replied: “Because it pleased me.” 

Tim spoke up and said: “Well, it is a beaut 
and I will try and keep it. I never could keep 
a nice watch before; the only kind of a watch 
that I could ever keep was an Ingersoll dollar 
watch. But,” he added, “I will always keep 
this one, no matter what happens.” 

I did not tell him what I had paid for the 
trinket. 

Just then a lone female came in the place, 
stepped up to Tim, and said: “Excuse me, but 
do you keep ham ?” 

“Yes,” replied Tim. 

“Well, I wish to get a penny^s worth of ham 
and two pennies’ worth of rolls. We are just 
doing light housekeeping, you know.” 


LOm DRAWS. 


85 


Tim very nearly fell dead, but recovered and 
came right back with: ^^Am very sorry; I am 
short on ham; am also out of rolls; but 1^11 tell 
you where you can get what you want. Just 
go to the alley here; go up the alley three 
blocks till you come to No. 5 Calhoun Place — 
that^s Billy Boyle^s — tell them that Big Bunk 
sent you and they will not only let you have 
what you want, but they will deliver it for you.^^ 
answered the girl, would not ask 
them to deliver it, although I only live a few 
blocks from here — corner Halstead and Quincy 
— but if they would only deliver it, I could go 
to a dance on the North Side. My husband 
does not like to have me go to dances, but, you 
bet your life, I would not give up going to dances 
for the best man on earth.^^ 

I noticed, whenever she spoke, that her teeth 
were all shot to pieces; no good ones. 

^^Thanks, ever so much.^^ And she shot a kill- 
ing glance at Tim and tripped out the door. 

We both looked toward the door. Then Tim 
said: Wasn’t she a bird? Did you notice all 

the furniture she had missing out of her front 
parlor? Well, she will get what she wants at 
Boyle’s — the least order they serve there is 
$ 1 . 10 .” 

Just then four young fellows came in the 
place. They all spoke to Tim, who seated them 


86 


LOUJa DRAWS. 


and brought them what they ordered. When 
Tim came back, I said to him: ^^Tim, yon seem 
to know most everyone; do yon know Carter 
Harrison 

^^Know him?” replied Tim; ^Vell, I shonld 
say I did. His dog and onr dog nsed to play 
together.” 

^^Well,” says I. 

^^Well,” says Tim, ^That’s pretty good, isnT 
it? Yon didn’t expect me to tell yon that we 
nsed to play leap-frog together, did yon?” 

I looked at Tim to see if he was stringing 
me, bnt no. He was evidently telling me the 
trnth. Still, I could not tell jnst when Tim 
was telling me the trnth and when he was lying. 

The fonr got np and left. 

^^Who are they?” I asked of Tim. 

Tim replied: ^^Oh! they are fair-gronnd 
grafters. They never do anything here in Chi- 
cago, bnt make their money ontside of town and 
come here to spend it. The first one that went 
ont was Chappie Moore; the one after him was 
a fellow named Bailer; the third was Wally Size. 
The fonrth one was Sheeny Heck. I never 
heard him knock anyone. He might say that a 
man was a stiff or a lob, or that he conld not 
grab a handfnl of water ont of a river, bnt knock 
— never. He came in here the other night and 
was a trifle excited. He started in to tell me 


WSia DUAWS. 


87 


what a lot of piking stiffs John W. Gates, Eocke- 
feller and Pierpont Morgan were, and that he 
would have money when they were all starving 
to death. He said, G am almost famished;^ 
pushed two or three people to one side and said, 
‘Tim, give me a glass of milk and a cream puff.’ 
He leaned over confidentially and asked, ‘Can 
you cash a check for me for $8,000?’ 

I answered: ‘Why, Heck, I never seen that 
much money at one time in all my life.’ 

“‘Well,’ says he, ‘let me take fifty cents till 
I see Tom McGinniss.’ 

“ ‘That ’s more like it,’ says I, as I handed 
him the half. 

After he had taken his departure, I ob- 
served a small card of black molasses which 
he had left — at least that was what I judged it 
to he. I intended to put it in the register and 
keep it for him, hut neglected to do so. Just 
then in came a big hobo — ^not a yegg, but a Bo; 
mopes up to me and says: ‘What chances for 
a feed? I just got out of a John 0 — came from 
Cinci.’ 

“Well, you know, I always did have a soft 
spot in my heart for a hungry mortal, so I gets 
him a piece of steak, some Java and a plate of 
cakes — a party had just left. I goes over the 
other side of the room to take another order, 
and when I came back, I found that the Bo had 


88 


LOm DRAWS. 


glomed Heck^s sample of molasses off of the 
five of spades and had it spread on his cakes. 
It made me a trifle mad, hut I did not say any- 
thing, as I thought it was hut a sample and that 
Heck could get plenty more. After he had 
gotten through with his meal, the Bo got up, 
stretched, and got quite talkative. 

T. guess you don’t know who I am,’ says he ; 
Veil, I am good people. Here ’s a Moll in Dun- 
kirk dat ’s crazy to marry me and she ’s wort 
four hundred thousand plunks, hut I passed her 
up. I would not let any Moll tell me where to 
head in — see? I am going down to South Bend 
to-morrow to join out some of dat Lake Shore 
push and jump out in Kansas and puff peters. 
I knows a safe out in Downs, Kansas, wid $2,700 
in it. It ’s a little hit of a hox in a hoarding- 
house. All dis cush was left dere hy de grafters 
for hoard — and it’s still dere.’ 

^^He got so strong that I had to throw him 
out. 

^^Ahout ten minutes later Sheeny Heck came 
back and exclaimed to me: ^Say, Tim, when I 
left here, I left behind a card of hop; did you 
see anything of it?’ 

" T saw a card of hlack molasses — if that is 
what you mean — it was on the five spot of 
spades.’ 


LONG DRAWS. 


89 


^What!^' fairly screamed Heck, ^the five of 
spades? are you sure it the five of spades? 
was it not some other card?^ 

^No,^ said I, ^it was the five of spades— 
there it lays on the floor — see?’ says I. 

^The copper card,’ muttered Heck. 

^^^hTo,’ said I, tell you it was the five of 
spades.’ 

^^^Why,’ exclaimed Heck, ^that wasn’t mo- 
lasses — it was dope — opium.’ 

^'mat!’ says I. 

^Yes,’ says Heck. ^Where is it ?’ 

Why,’ says I, ^a hobo saw it lying there 
and spro^ad it on his cakes, thinking it was mo- 
lasses. !N'o wonder he wanted to buy this place 
out.’ 

^^^Is that right?’ exclaimed Heck. 

^As sure as you ’re standing there,’ I an- 
swered. 

^Well,’ said Heck, looking me squarely in 
the eye, hf that ’s on the dead, there ’s a vote 
that Hinky Dink will never get.’” 


CARD 5. 


The next day J. Arthur and Mr. Jladford 
left for Wisconsin. Miss Violet, her brother 
and myself went to the depot and saw him oh*. 
J. Arthur and I had spent most all of the a. in. 
buying iiehing tackle. J. Arthur had also bought 
himself a handsome rifle. I noticed that ho 
and Miss Violet were getting quite intimate, and 
for my part, I was very glad to observe it. 
iN’othing could have pleased me more than to 
see J. Arthur and Miss hthridge wed, and in 
case they did, I would make J. Arthur a present 
of the money I had advanced him for his wed- 
ding-gift. 

After the train had steamed out, I bade Miss 
Violet and Paul adieu and repaired to the Kich- 
elieu, where I found IJnclo Scotty waiting to 
see me. Although I had not seen him since 1 
was a little boy, I knew him at a glance, as he 
had not changed a particle. I made myself 
known to him. He was very glad to see me and 
had a great deal to tell mo. I had seen Bobby 
Gaylor at one of the theaters a few nights pre- 
viously, and the resemblance between the two 
was so marked, both in looks and in their con- 


90 


LONa DRAWS. 


91 

versation, that I could hardly tell the two 
apart had they been together. 

Uncle Scotty was so loud in his talk that I 
stalled him over to the Leland, and we sat down 
at a table and I ordered a quart of wine. After 
it had been served and before he had even tasted 
it, he said to me : ^^Dudley, me hoy, and what 's 
thatP’ 

‘^Why, Uncle Scotty, that ^s wine — cham- 
pagne.^^ 

^^And what does it cost?'’ 

^Tour dollars.^’ 

He was sitting at the table toying with his 
glass. When I told him the price, he jumped 
up from the table and snoke so loud that the 
attention of everyone in the place was attracted: 
^^Why, Dudley, me boy, I ’m nigh onto fifty 
years old and I 've got sixty thousand dollars 
in the hank, but I never took a drink of cham- 
pagne wine in all me life.*' 

'^Oh! that^s all right. Uncle Scotty — have 
plenty of money and I prefer champagne to any 
other drink.^^ 

^^Well,” said Uncle Scotty, ^^you can drink all 
the wine you like, hut for my part, I will take 
a little rye.'^ 

^^All right. Uncle Scotty; take whatever you 
desire.” 


92 


Lom DRAWS. 


He ordered the whisky, and as he tossed it 
off he said to me: ^^Dudley, me boy, call me 
Scotty — ^jnst plain Scotty — ^not Uncle Scotty or 
Mr. Bolen, but just Scotty — that what everyone 
calls me.^^ 

^^All righV^ says I. ^^When did yon arrive 
and w'here are you stopping 

‘^Well, I got here this a. ni. and I am room- 
ing at the Grace Hotel, and I eat wherever I 
find a good restaurant — ^roonis are mighty higli, 
but a man can eat as cheap here as he could 
possibly in Pittsburg — if one only looked around 
a bit.^^’ 

AVe got lip and left the place and went over 
on State Street and dropped in several places 
and had several more drinks. I observed at a 
glance that Scotty could punish a quantity of 
liquor, and I further observed that it did not 
seem to have any ill effects on him. We walked 
down State Street and when opposite the Palmer 
House we ran into Mr. Tim Sullivan. We 
stopped and I made Tim acquainted with Uncle 
Scotty. Tim proposed that we walk over to 
Chapin & Gore’s and get a drink. We did so, and 
after this one had been followed by several more, 
I proposed that we go in the cafe and have 
something to eat, so we meandered in and sat 
down. Scotty was taking in ever3rthing. 


LOm DRAWS. 


93 


1 got a chance to whisper to Tim that Uncle 
Scotty was very peculiar and for him not to pay 
any attention to his little peculiarities. I told 
Tim to order for all three of us, which he did. 
He ordered three porterhouse steaks, French 
peas and colfee. 

In the meanwhile Scotty was telling me all 
the news — that he had c 'me to Chicago on a 
short visit; that he intended to stay a week or 
so ; that he then was going up in Michigan, some 
place in the copper country, to see one of his 
sisters, whom he had not seen for over twenty 
years. He asked if Mr. Sullivan had any rel- 
atives in McKeesport, Pa. Uncle Scotty said 
rhat he knew a number of Sullivans in Penn- 
sylvania; that one — Mike Sullivan, of Pittsburg 
— owed him $8.30 bar hill. Scotty asked Tim 
if this Sullivan wa.s any relative of his. Tim 
winked at me and said that Mike Sullivan was 
an uncle of his, and Tim fi-'rther stated that ho 
had a number of relations in Pennsylvania, but 
that they were ail blacklegs and rascals. Tim 
asked Scotty if Mike was^a puddler, to which 
Scotty answered in the affirmative. ‘^That ’s 
him,” said Tim. 

By this time the steaks had arrived and we 
all started in to eat, hut before we had a chance 
to cut into them, Scotty was there with his 
everlasting: ‘^And what kind of a steak do you 
call this?” 


94 


LOm DRAWS. 


said I, ^'that^s a porterhouse/^ 

‘^Aiid what does such a steak as that cost?’^ 
said I, ^‘they cost $1.25 for one steak.’^ 

‘‘Why, mon, I nigh onto fifty years old and 
I \e got sixty thousand dollars in the hank, and 
I never ate a porther stake in all me life. There ^s 
ten in me family and a dime’s worth of round 
steak is all they iver get, and that ’s enough.” 

Scotty was talking so joudl> that everyone 
in the place was glancing our way. I grabbed 
him by the coat and pulled him down in the 
chair and said to him: “That ’s all right, Scotty; 
I will pay for the suppers.” 

“No,” said he, “I pay for me own meals — 
no one can say that Scotty Bolen ever sponged 
off of his friends.” 

I finally got him quieted. Then Tim winked 
at me and said: “Let him eat one of those nice 
T-bone sirloins.” 

“And how much do they cost?” inquired 
Scotty. 

I winked at Tim, who replied: “Oh! they 
cost ten cents and the coffee costs five — fifteen 
cents, all told.” 

“And are they nice,” asked Scotty. 

“Nice?” ejaculated Tim, “why they are as 
good as any piece of round steak 3 ^ou ever ate 
in your life.” 


L02JG DRAWS. 


95 


^^All right/^ said Scotty, ^^but I would sooner 
have a nice round steak; then I know I am 
getting something good/' 

The steaks were served, and while we were 
eating I told Scotty to give me fifteen cents and 
I would pay for the suppers. He did so and 
remarked that Tim had told the truth regard- 
ing the steak — that it was the finest steak he 
liad ever eaten in his life. He inquired again 
The name of the place. We told him and he 
said he would not forget. AVe both thought he 
desired the number of the place so that he 
could tell his family what a fine steak he had 
gotten for ten cents in Chicago when he got back 
home. 

He seemed to take a fancy to Tim, and he 
asked him 'if the saloon did much business, to 
which Tim answered in the affirmative. 

Scotty stated that he owned a good paying 
saloon in Pittsburg on Smithfield Street, that 
it wasn't as fine a saloon as the one in which 
we were, but that he would wager that it did 
just as large a volume of business. 

He inquired of Tim if he knew how much 
per week the bartenders received. 

Tim winked at me and replied: ^^Oh! they 
get pretty good pay — some of them make as 
much as $15 per week." 


96 


Lom DRAWS. 


said Scotty, ^^that what 1 call 
throwing money away; 1 have as line a bar- 
tender as there is in the city of Pittsburg, and 
I only pay him $4 per week. Of course,^^ con- 
tinued Scotty, “I have a line lunch-counter and 
he gets his meals and his room gratis. I don’t 
believe in paying big wages for nothing, and 
tending bar is all play. All a mon has to do 
is to hand over the bottle and draw the beer. 
Tapping a keg of beer is nothing — it is not like 
working in the steel mills. No, indeed.” 

Scotty continued: know Andrew Carnegie 

very well. I knew him when he was a poor mon. 
He is a fine mon, but he isn’t a bit better 
mon than I be. He may have more money 
than I have and he may wear better clothes 
than 1 do, but I will bet that he does not live 
any better. I know Andrew Carnegie does not 
have any better furniture in his house than I 
do in mine. Why, mon alive,” says Scotty, ’ve 
got a pianow that cost me $800; it has one of 
those patent things to it which you wind up, 
then it will play by itself. Do you mean to tell 
me that Andrew Carnegie has any one thing in 
his house that cost any more than $800? No.” 

Scotty continued: ^‘This is how I happened 
to buy that pianow: I have a neighbor named 
Kiser, who lives next door to us. He, like 
myself, formerly was a puddler. I have made 


LO'Sia DRAW^. 


97 


as high as $18 per day, and Kiser never made 
over $16. Well, we both saved our money 
and finally quit working at the mills. We both 
got property adjoining — that is, we got our 
homes so that we could he neighbors. We each 
have a number of houses and lots which we 
rent out. Kiser put most all of his capital in- 
to real estate, while I bought a fine saloon with 
some of mine. Since we have discontinued 
working at the mills we have both made con- 
siderable money, though I think Kiser has 
made the most. People say that he is worth 
$300,000, but I have my doubts about this. 
Well, as I was saying, we got our homes adjoin- 
ing, but I have not seen Kiser for over six 
months. Some of the neighbors say that he has 
gotten the swell-head since he has accumulated 
so much wealth, but I would not believe them 
till a few weeks ago. I wanted to borrow a lawn- 
mower, and so I stepped over to his place and 
a servant-girl came to the door. I asked her if 
Mr. Kiser was at home and she flippantly rejoined: 
^Ko, indeed; Mr. Kazaar lives here, but he is 
not at home.^ 

" ‘Who T I asked. 

“ ‘Mr. Kazaar,^ she replied. 

“It made me mad to think that just because 
a mon had money he should become ashamed 


98 


LO^a DRAW^. 


of his own name and should therefore change 
it, so I told her to tell Mr. — whatever that name 
was she called him, I would not say it if I could 
— -that Mr. B-a-g-o-l-e-n had been to segee him 
and had legeft, and that he would segee him 
some other tigime. 

^^After I got home, I got to talking to Agnes 
— Agnes is me wife — and 1 told her the incident, 
and it made her as mad as it did me. We both 
made up our minds that we would show Mr. — I 
will not say that other name; I refer to the mon 
Kiser — that we had money as well as he. We 
accordingly took Helen (Helen is our daughter) 
up to the music store and bought her the finest 
pi anew in the store, and the mon showed Helen 
how to wind it up. And if I do say it myself 
— not because she is me own daughter — that 
for a young garul Helen knows as much about 
machinery as any garul you ever saw in all 
your life. 

^AVeli, we had the pianow put up in the 
front parlor, and Helen wound it up and made 
it play from eight o’clock in the a. m. until ten 
o’clock at night. It made Kiser so mad and jeal- 
ous that, just before I left, I heard one of my 
neighbors remark that Kiser was going to move 
into one of his other houses. 

'•'I heard this, too : that Kiser uses the cheap- 
est coffee — only pays ten cents per pound for it. 


LONG DRAWH. 


99 


Now, I don’t believe in using cheap coffee; I 
pay twelve cents per pound for what I use. I 
believe in using the best.” 

‘^Eight you are, Scotty, says Tim; ^The best 
is none too good for you.” 

I glanced at my watch to see what time it 
was, but it had run down; so I said to Tim: 
'^What time have you, Tim?” 

Tim looked foolish and said: ^^Well, Mr. 
Eum Dum, I was out to the race-track yesterday 
and I bet $15 on Fan King in the first race and 
lost it. It was all I had. I waited till the 
fourth race, when I pawned my watch for $10 
and bet that on Maid Marian and likewise lost 
that. I always did admire Maid Marian.” 

“Well,” said I, “to whom did you pawn the 
timepiece? Tell me, and I will take it out for 
you , That ’s a pretty good watch — a Howard, 
and T paid $300 for it, with the chain.” 

“What!” said Tim, “$300?” 

“Certainly,” said I. “W'Tiom did you let 
have it?” 

Tim looked very crestfallen and replied: 
“Search me. I have seen the fellow two or 
three times, but I do not know his name.” 

“Well,” said I, “after this, whenever you 
want money, let me know and I will let you 
have it.” 


lOO 


LONG DRAWS. 


Tim replied: '^Well, Mr. Kum Dum, you 
wasn’t out to the race-track, so I borrowed the 
money from the first man I met whom I knew 
had money. He had quite a bunch of dough in 
his hand, and so I asked him to loan me $10 on 
my watch and to bring the watch to the restau- 
rant any night after 9 o’clock and I would give 
him $12 for it back again. I had never looked 
at the works myself, but the minute he looked at 
the works, he handed me the $10 and remarked, 
^All right.’ I told you, you will remember, 
Mr. Eum Dum, that I never could keep a good 
watch over a week at a time.” 

“Oh! I am not mad; only after this, when- 
ever you desire money don’t fail to ask me for 
any sum you wish, and' you shall have it.” 

We were through our suppers and I picked 
tip the checks. I also picked up Scotty’s — 
handed the waiter $5 and whispered to him to 
pay for our suppers and to keep the change. 
Scotty had not seen his check, which was $1.45. 
Mine called for $1.50 and so did Tim’s. After we 
had passed out on the street, Scotty took a good 
look at the place and said: “I won’t forget that 
place.” 

As we walked down Monroe Street a man 
came staggering toward us. I spoke to Tim 
and observed: “That fellow has a pretty good 

Jag” 


LONG DRAWS. 


Ol 


^‘That _what he has,” replied Tim, ^^but 
you have got him pegged wrong. He is not full 
of booze, as you suppose, but is full of hop, 
or coke.” 

^^What!” said I, ‘^not drunk?” 

^^No,” said Tim, ^That^s Puffy Eed, and he 
is either full of opium or cocaine.” 

^^And does opium or cocaine make a man 
stagger like that?” I rejoined. 

‘^Some people it does,” replied Tim; ^That 
is, if they take enough of it — that Gee is loaded 
to the guards.” 

'^Say, Tim,” says I, ^^did you ever hit the 
pipe ?” 

^^Yes,” said Tim, ^^several times in my life, 
though I never had the yen-yen or habit. I 
was only a pleasure smoker.” 

^^And,” said I, ^^do you really know anyone 
that smokes opium?” 

^‘Hundreds of them,” said Tim. 

^^And will you take me some time and let 
me see them smoke?” 

^^Yes,” said Tim; know a fellow named 
Red Jack Wilson over on the West Side, and I 
will lay off some night and will not only take 
you over there and let you see them smoke, hut 
will fix it so that you can smoke also.” 

^^Oh!” said I, do not want ^o smoke. I 
only want to see others amoke. B^^sides, I might 


102 


LOm DRAWS. 


acquire the habit myself should I indulge once/^ 
danger/^ said Tim; ^^once, twice, or a 
dozen times would not make you a habitual 
smoker. You would have to smoke every day 
for six months or a year before you would 
crave it, and besides, Ked Jack is very sensi- 
tive. If I took you over there and you did not 
smoke, he would get offended and the chances 
are that he would not let us stay in the room. 
1 am your friend, Mr. Rum Dum, and I would 
not take you up there if by hitting it once you 
would ever become a user of the drug. I would 
rather cut off m.y right arm than to do you 
any harm. 

^Tn going up here you will meet some very 
rich characters — different from any you have 
ever previously met in all your life.’’ 

^^All right, Tim,” said I; ^^if that’s the case, 
I will go you one if I lose.” (Here was a chance 
to see life; why not accept it?) 

I told him to lay off some night and to fix 
it with Red Jack for myself and Scotty to he 
present — that I desired that Scotty should ac- 
company us. 

Of course we would not tell Scotty that the 
drug was opium, hut would lead him to believe 
that he was smoking something else. During 
this interview Scotty had been in a cigar-store 
purchasing some smoking tobacco. We hap- 


LOm DRAWS. 


103 


pened to glance up and espied Scotty approach- 
ing. When he came up I inquired of him: 
^^Did you get what you wished?” 

‘^No,” said he, ^‘that makes about ten places 
1 have been into to get Mail Pouch, hut I can 
not get any.” 

"Oh!” said Tim, "we people in Chicago don’t 
smoke a pipe on the street. MTien we desire to 
smoke a pipe, about fifteen or twenty of us get 
together in someone’s room and we all smoke 
IjXCLUTIB ” 

"What’s that?” asked Scotty. 

"Oh!” said Tim, "thai’s a new smoke. I 
was just talking to Mr. Eum Dum about laying 
off some night and all going over on the West 
Side to a friend of mine and smoke. Do you 
wish to go along?” 

"And what will it cost?” asked Scotty. 

"Nothing,” said Tim. 

"Oh ! hut that will he sponging,” said Scotty. 

"iN'ot a-tall,” said Tim; "it will he an invi- 
tation affair, and if anyone offered to pay, it 
would insult Mr. Wilson.” 

"And is Dudley going?” 

"Of course,” said I. 

"Then,” said Scotty, "of course I will go.” 

And Tim said he would see Eed Jack and 
arrange matters. We then parted for the night. 

I promised to call di the restaurant the next 


104 


LONG DRAWS. 


night. I purchased two tickets for the Grand, 
and I enjoyed watching Scotty^s looks of sur- 
prise more than I did the show. 


CARD 6. 


The next day I did not get up until about 1 
o’clock. I expected to find Scotty in the office 
when I came down, hut he was not there, so 
after I had partaken of a light repast, I started 
over to the Grace Hotel, at which place Scotty 
Avas stopping. I asked the clerk if Mr. Bolen 
was in his room. He smiled and answered, 
^TTes; room 19,” and rapped on the door.. A 
faint voice called, ^^Come in.” I opened the 
door, and what a sight ! There was Scotty 
propped up in bed; both of his eyes were closed 
and his face was considerably SAvollen. A bottle 
of whisky stood on a chair alongside the bed 
— also some liniment. He looked the picture of 
despair. 

I spoke up and said, ‘^Why, what ’s the mat- 
ter, Scotty?” 

^^Matter?” said he; ^^oh! nothing a-tall, I 
2 :uess. Look at me face.” 

^‘Who did it?” I asked. 

"Oh! there ivere three or four in on the 
deal,” he replied. "You know that place where 
Ave ate dinner yesterday — Chapin & Gore’s.” 

"Yes,” I observed. 


105 


o6 


LOl^G DRAWS. 


^^Well, you remember the kind of steak I 
ate yesterday — the one you called a T steak.” 

^‘T-hone,” said I. 

'"Yes,” said Scotty. "Well, I went there 
this morning and sat down at the table and 
ordered one of them and also a cup of cotfee — 
the same as I ate yesterday for fifteen cents. 
AVell, it was certainly fine, and after I had fin- 
ished, the waiter wrote me out a piece of pa- 
per, same as he did you yesterday. Well, I 
handed him fifteen cents, and he thanked me 
and told me to pay the check at the cashier’s 
desk. I asked him what he meant, and he 
pointed to a man who sat behind a desk at the 
front of the establishment, and told me to pay 
me check to him. 

"'What check I asked. 

" 'The check for your meal,’ said he. 

" 'The money that I gave you, you chump, 
was for me meal — that fifteen cents.' 

" "Why,’ says he, 'what do you take this 
place for, anyway? a friendly inn or the Sal- 
vation Army barracks? The check for what 
you ate comes to $1.20 — T-bone, $1.10; coffee, 
10 cents; total, $1.20.’ 

"'Why,’ said I, 'what do you take me for? 
I ate the same thing in here yesterday for hf- 
ieen cents.’ He said I was crazy. I told him 
that he was a blackleg and a rascal. Just then 


LONG DRAWS. 


107 


three or four waiters came up and he told them 
to throw me out, and they pushed and shoved 
me until they got me on the outside of the 
place. Just then a big policeman came up and 
the waiter told him I was a deadbeat. I called 
the waiter a liar. The officer told me to shut 
up. I told his majesty that he was no better 
than the rest of them, and that I could lick 
any officer in Chicago. That was the only mis- 
take I made. The officer grabbed me and I 
struck him, and you see the result. The officer 
called the patrol-wagon and took me to the Har- 
rison Street Police Station. ' Court was being 
held at the time I arrived, and he took me up 
before the judge and told him I was the noto- 
rious Martin Eafferty that had been up so many 
times in front of him. The judge said that he 
remembered me very distinctly. He then fined 
me $21.95, and told me if I was brought up be- 
fore him again, he would hang me. They made 
mo pay me fine, and then hustled me out with- 
out letting me say a word in me own defense. 

^Well, Scotty,^^ said I, ^That was my fault, 
so I will stand for your fine.^^ 

^^ 0 ,’^ said Scotty; pay me own fine.^^ 
^‘Well,’^ said T, ffiet me send you a nurse.^’ 
^^ 0 ,” said Scotty; ffit don’t amount to any- 
thing and I have already had a good doctor.” 
^^Well,” said I, H will stay here in the 


io8 


LONG DRAWS. 


room with you this afternoon,” and I did so. 
I filled Scotty up on whisky and remained in 
the room until about 1 a. m. He was sleeping 
soundly when I took my departure. 

I had drunk considerable whisky myself, and 
decided that I would walk over to Tim’s .and 
converse with him a while before going to bed. 
I had seen Tim on Clark Street that afternoon 
with another party when I had been out pur- 
chasing some fruit. He was on the opposite 
side of the street and did not observe me, his 
attention being otherwise diverted. I was just 
full enough to feel pretty good, and as I en- 
tered the place I burst out with: 

^^Who was the swell-looking old pap I saw 
you walking down South Clark Street with this 
afternoon, Tim?” 

^'Who do you mean? The one that had the 
yen hok on his shoulder?” asked Tim. 

did not see him carrying anything on 
his shoulder,” I rejoined, ^^but he looked to be 
very prosperous.” 

^^Oh!” says Tim, ^^he wasn't anyone at all, I 
guess, only the mayor of Pennsylvania: that’s 
all.” 

‘^The mayor of Pennsylvania?” I asked. 

^^'ep,” said Tim. 

^‘Say, Tim, what is a yen hok?’’ 


LOm DRAWFi. 


109 


‘‘1 don’t know, only that it is some kind of 
a Chinese tool or instrument. The Chinese are 
great people/^ observed Tim. “They also in- 
vented the suey poi/' he continued. 

I looked hard at Tim — was it possible that 
he was stringing me ? Somehow or other, I had 
got to doubting Tim here lately. Everybody 
has his likes and dislikes, and I disliked nothing 
more than a liar. No matter how much I cared 
for anyone, the moment that I caught him in 
a lie, that moment did he become repulsive to 
me. I am not like a married woman — always try- 
ing to catch her husband in a lie ; then when she 
does catch him, she is sorry she caught him. 
But nevertheless, I decided to set a trap for Tim, 
and if my suspicions turned out to be correct, I 
would mark him off my list. 

Tim continued: “See that fellow over at 
that table, sitting all by himself — that^s Harry 
Heilbom, one of the best known hotel clerks 
west of the Ilockies. He has been employed in 
a great many hotels throughout the West. He 
is also a clever amateur minstrel performer. 
He is now with C9I. Newton, at Livingston, 
Montana.^’ 

As Tim stepped out in the kitchen to roast 
the cook, I walked over to the table at which 
Mr. Heilborn was sitting and spoke thusly: 


I lO 


LONG DRAWS. 


‘^Excuse me, but is not this Mr. Ruggles, oi 
Salt Lake City, Utah?'^ I asked. 

^^No, sir; my name is Heilborn. I am from 
Livingston, Montana.” 

I made my apology and went back to my 
accustomed seat. Dear old Tim, how did I 
ever doubt you ? I would never doubt him 
again — no, never. 

Tim again entered with the remark: ‘^Come 
here, Dudley. I want to introduce you to sev- 
eral of my friends.” And he took me over to 
a table at which five young fellows were sitting. 

^^All my friends,” says Tim. '^Shake hands 
with J ohnny Daily, Mr. Rum Dum.” 

We shook. 

^Mimmy Blake; Pardee; Jimmy Humphrey; 
Slim Sullivan.” 

I took a seat alongside the rest. Just then 
in came two little dried-up specimens and took 
a seat near by. Tim did not go near them. 

^^There ’s Guttersnipe Jack,” says Slim to me. 

^^Who is he?” I asked. 

donT know his partner,” says Slim, ^fi)ut 
Jack is a case-keeper at Hankin’s gambling- 
house, 134 South Clark Street. He gets $3 
per night keeping cases and he has $3,000 or 
$4,000 in the bank. And,” continued Slim, ^^he 
never ate a square meal in all his life. Over at 
Brockway & McKee’s they have big tables on 


LOl^a DRAWS. 


1 1 I 


which there are large bowls of jam, pickles, and 
pyramids of bread that go with the meals. Well, 
Jack used to go in and order a cup of coffee 
and glom everything in sight — celery tops — ^in 
fact, he passed nothing by — and then walk up 
and pay five cents. They finally got next to 
him and barred him out. It would not be so 
bad if he had a large family, or if he was sav- 
ing his money to pay off a mortgage, but no — 
he is stingy. Some day he will drop dead, and 
if they ever cut him open, they will find more 
junk in him than they would inside of an ostrich 
or a billy goat.^^ 

Tim finally stalls up to their table. The 
little fellow with Jack says: ^^e vants two cups 
of coffee.^^ 

^^WelV^ rejoins Tim, “you canT get them 
here.^^ 

“Vy not?^^ 

“Well, I donT w^ant to serve you,^^ says Tim. 

“AinT our money as good as anyone’s?’^ 

“No,^^ said Tim; “it is poison.” 

They kicked so hard that Tim picked them 
both up and threw them out, the little fellow 
never ceasing to exclaim, “Ve vill see; ve vill 
see.” 

As Tim pushed them through the door he 
rejoined, “To the tall weeds wdth the both of 
you — I donT w'ant your game.” 


I 12 


LOtJa /)7?AT7.Sf. 


Tim came back to the table with the remark, 
‘T guess that settles them/^ 

I found Slim Sullivan a very smart young 
fellow, well versed in history ancient and mod- 
ern. lie was telling of the defense of Ther- 
mopylae by the Greeks, and he had the Eomans 
piled up ten or fifteen high, when in rushed a 
short young fellow, accompanied by a consump- 
tive-looking fellow. Stepping up to Slim, the 
short one exclaimed: ^^Say, Slim, I want you to 
decide an argument Mocking Bird and I had as 
to whether dried prunes are a proper diet for 
the Swedes.” 

Slim got angry and said: ^^Go ask Patsy King. 
He^s an epicure. And I want to tell you one 
thing. After this, when you and Nigger Bob, 
Ben Gordon or any of the rest of you have any 
arguments or bets to decide, go to Curt Gunn 
or Sandy Clark. I am sick and tired of deciding 
bets; from henceforth the black flag is up. The 
next thing some of you dubs will be asking will 
be : ^Say, Slim, how big is a piece of chalk T To 
the high brush with you, small dog; fade away.” 

Just then in comes the little Dutchman, 
vants some coffee,” says he. 

Tim promptly threw him out. 

^^He is stronger than horseradish, isn’t he?” 

The little Dutchman yelled, ^^Ve vill see; 
ve will see.” 


LONG DRAWS. 


113 


Slim and his party got up and went out. 

Another party of four came in. 

‘^Grafters/’ said Tim. 

‘^Who are they?’^ said I, as they seated them- 
selves at the table. 

‘^Wait till I take their orders/^ said Tim. 

When Tim came hack, he remarked : ‘^There ^s 
quite a bunch of money getters — George Burton, 
St. Paul, Bob Geventa, Naw Lens, Kentuck and 
the Indiana Wonder. Bob is an awful diamond 
fiend.^^ 

‘AVhy,^^ I observed, ^Tie has but one dia- 
mond on.^^ 

^AVell,^^ says Tim, ^^all I know is what Ken- 
tuck told me. Kentuck told me that Bob told 
him confidentially that everyone had his hobby 
and that his was diamonds. Kentuck has a girl 
named Fi Fi. I wonT tell you where she lives, 
but that girl loves him to death. It seems that 
Kentuck promised her a pair of sealskin ear- 
rings, or something or other, and he wrote her 
about thirty letters, when he finally received an 
answer which ran thus: 

^^Got all your letters. Am very lonesome. 
DonT forget my present. Yours, Fi Fi.” 

^AVell,” I remarked, ^^she certainly did love 
him.’^ 

^Tvoved him to death, says Tim. 


LQ-NO DRAWS. 


114 


“But the Wonder,/’ continues Tim, “there is 
a jewel. Why/’ says Tim, “he makes all his 
money playing faro hank and loses it paying 
railroad fare and hotel hills looking for places 
to work.” 

“Why, he must he a wonder,” I rejoined. 

“Wonder?” says Tim, “why I saw him win 
153 straight hets playing faro bank at Ft. Smitli, 
Ark., at twelve and a half and twenty-five whip; 
sawed every turn and beat every last turn. The 
nearest he came to losinga bet was:hehad $12.50; 
bet between the nine and ten and beat them both. 
He was winning so many bets that he could not 
keep track of them ; or, in other words, he was 
catching them faster than he could string them. 
As I said, he left $25, bet between the nine and 
ten. They were both marked dead on the cases. 
Well, believe me or not, a dead nine, the nine of 
spades, came popping along, and he won $25. 
He never expected to win. At the same time, 
Bread-wagon John lost four $1.25 bets and he 
wanted to lick everyone in the house. Bread- 
wagon once owned a bread-wagon and he bet it 
on John L, Sullivan when he fought Corbett, 
and he always swore Sullivan threw him off. 
Well, it cost Ed Staley $10 for drinks to quiet 
John down. The Wonder finally drew out; quit 
$1,700 winner. I said to him, Tioy, what are 
you going to do with all that money?” He 


LOtm DRAW,^. 


I15 

liacl only been playing a couple of hours. He 
gaped, stretched, rubbed his nose once or twice, 
and drawled out, ^Well, Tim, I am going to 
take this money and buy my little dog a blanket 
— poor little fellow ! he has been shivering 
lately.^ 

They paid their tab and left. 

As they took their departure? in came a couple 
of Tim’s friends. 

Tim .said: H w^ant to introduce you to a 
couple of my friends, Dudley. Shake hands with 
Mr. Leah. Mr. Leah runs a restaurant at Rock- 
ford, Illinois, and he is a swell chef. Leah can 
cook a Spanish stew so that every hair on your 
head Avill stand straight up and say, ‘Thanks.’ ” 

Mr. Leah did not deny the impeachment. 

“This other gent is Mr. A1 Dundas. Mr. 
Dundas is one of our leading painters,” whis- 
pered Tim, “and he is worth a quart of ver- 
milion.” 

Great heavens! did my ears deceive me? Did 
Tim say “a quart of vermilion” or “a quarter of 
a million”? Must have been the latter, as any 
painter is worth a quart of vermilion. I sized 
Mr. Dundas up. He did not look $250,000 to me; 
still, it is hard to judge people nowadays. I 
wished that doubt about Tim’s fibbing to me 
would not enter my mind at such intervals. 

We were telling Leah and Dundas about the 


ii6 


LOl^a DRAWS. 


little Dutchman, when in he comes, accompanied 
by five or six of his friends. He rushed up to Tim 
with his hands waving like windmills, his eyes all 
ablaze, and fairly shouted: ‘TCill me; kill me; 
I have vitnesses.^^ I saw a quick look pass be- 
tween Tim and Dundas. Tim paid not the slight- 
est attention to the little Dutchman, but said 
to Dundas: H say I didnT.” 
say you did.^^ 

^‘You are a liar.^^ 

^^You are another.^^ 

Tim rushed behind the counter and grabbed 
a butcher-knife two feet in length. Dundas 
whipped out a Gatt as long as the knife. They 
got the little Dutchman between them. Tim 
flourished the knife. Dundas snapped the gun. 
All the time Tim was swearing he would cut 
Dundas’ heart out and drink his blood. Dun- 
das swore he would shoot Tim’s eyes out. Leah 
grabbed the Dutchman, split him out, and 
rushed him to the door, shouting, ^^Let’s get out 
of here before we are killed; you go that way 
and I’ll go this.” Leah came back and we all 
laughed. 

‘^Aren’t you afraid that he will come back 
with a Bull?” says I. 

^^No danger,” rejoined Tim; and I guess he 
was right, as they made it so strong that I caught 


WSia DRAWS. 


II7 

myself becoming frightened too, as I began to 
think the fight might be on the square. 

Just then a woebegone-looking young fellow 
came in. He was poorly dressed and had his 
arm in a sling. He walked up to Tim and says: 
^^Can you spare me a few pennies? I just ar- 
rived in the city this evening from the Illinois 
Steel Mills, at which place IVe been working. 
1 got me arm burnt wid hot metal.^^ 

^^Wid hot metal repeats Tim. 

^^Youse can see for yourself,’^ continues the 
fellow, as he unties the sling. He was burned 
pretty badly. He had a sore on his arm as big 
as a silver dollar. I reached in my pocket for 
a piece of silver, but Tim shook his head. 

Tim got between the Punk and the door. 
^^So you burnt your arm, did you?” And he 
made a grab for the arm. ^^You dirty gay cat.” 

^^DonT,” says the kid. 

^^Shut up,” rejoins Tim. ^^You never saw 
the steel mills. You put that bug on yourself. 
That ^s Phila Slimes work. Whose Pesky are 
you ?” And Tim got fierce. 

ainT got no Burly,” says the Punk. 

"Who does you know ? Does you know 
Cinci Bob, or does you know Balto Tom, Peoria 
Slim, Chi Fatty? Does you know the Hundred 
Dollar Day Kid? Ko? Then you are a fuzz- 
tail,” says Tim. 


ii8 


LOls^a DRAWS. 


The young fellow was a-sniffling by this time. 

^‘1 knows Cleveland Shorty/^ says the kid. 

^^You knows that cat, does you ? It is a won- 
der you didn’t come in here and try to lay me 
down a hoop — your dead sister’s wedding-ring. 
Bah!” continues Tim; ’ll give you just an hour 
to get out of here, and if I catch you around here 
agin, I ’ll put Big Steve onto you, and Steve will 
sap the life out of you. Steve is my friend. He 
would even go across the street off of his beat 
to favor me, and that’s more than he would do 
for anyone else on earth.” 

The kid started for the door, when Tim 
stopped him by saying, ‘^Have you scoffed yet?” 

‘‘Yes; I ate about an hour ago.” 

“Have you got a flop yet?” 

“Yes; down at Billy Major’s, on Fourth Ave.” 

“Got any dough ?” 

“Yes; eight five meg. I just thought I’d 
hike out on de stem and see if I couldn’t pick 
up a few pennies. I aint no wedder profit, doe, 
and didn’t know I was going to run into a cy- 
clone.” 

0 Vanity, Vanity! how we all like the salve! 
I could see Tim beginning to weaken. 

“Didn’t you put that bug on your arm your- 
self with acid?” asks Tim. 

“You knows I did; what’s de use asking?” 

“What’s your moniker?” asks Tim. 


LONG DRAWS. 


19 


‘^Dey calls me Mushrat/’ says the Punk. 

“Well, Mushrat, you are well named.’^ 

“You ain^t hostile toward me, is you?*’ asks 
the kid. 

“No,” says Tim; “you can go; come around 
here to-morrow night and I wall give you a clean 
skin and a pair of kicks; come between nine and 
ten.” ' 

“You won’t turn me up, will you?” 

“Of course not.” 

“All right; I’ll he here.” And he was gone. 

“You ’re a bird, Tim,” said I, with admiration. 

“Yes,” said Tim, “I am one of those birds 
that fly up the creek. I believe they call them 
herons. You have seen them.” 

“Say, Tim, what w^as it you promised him?” 

“Why,” said Tim, “I told him I would give 
him a clean shirt and a pair of my shoes.” 

“Great heavens! Tim, your shoes won’t fit 
him. They are four or five sizes too big for 
him.” 

“That won’t make any difference,” said Tim. 
“I know I have dealt off of my arm so long that 
I have kidneys in my feet, but never fear. He 
wall make them fit all right. Why,” continued 
Tim, “I have known bums to go from Buffalo to 
San Francisco for a pair of strides that they 
knew they could get from someone.” 

“What?” I asked. 


120 


LOl^a DRAWS. 


pair of pants,” said Tim. ^^Get next.” 

^m!” said I. 

Just then in came four young fellows; it was 
getting late, but I stuck. 

^^Do you know them ?” says I. 

^^Sure,” says Tim. 

They were a well-dressed jovial set. Tim 
took their orders, and then came back to me. 

^^That slim young fellow is Tom Marshall; 
he tends bar for Mike Birmingham, in Milwau- 
kee. The good-looking, dark-complected fellow 
is Harry Eosenburg, also of Milwaukee, one of 
the best. The little fellow? Oh! that^s the 
scar-face kid — one of the greatest hustlers on 
earth — ^he has a saloon and a restaurant at 
Heenah, Wis., and is making plenty of money. 
He used to rustle around the corners and he 
played more faro bank than any one in Chi, 
outside of Sport Minor and Slim Groves. The 
fourth one is Sidney C. Heel, a rich man’s son. 
They say that he is worth $200,000. 

^Tlas he got it, Tim?” I asked. 

^^es,” answered Tim; ^^but he has it in 
pork.” 

^Glow’s that, Tim?” I asked. 

^^Well, his money is tied up in some of those 
large packing-house plants — Armour’s or Swift’s. 
He is but a stockholder; he receives $15 or $20 
per day income. One time you will see him out 


LOm DRAWS. 


I2I 


with young Studebaker and that push; the next 
time he will be out with Eachel, Eace-horse Dick, 
Tom Kerwin or some of that bunch; but he will 
find this hunch pretty swift.” 

Just then they all laughed. Mr. Heel was 
telling an experience and we listened. He was 
talking about gambling and he said: never 

played faro but once. I played two games. I 
won one and Pat Sheedy won the other.” 

^‘Did you ever play roulette?” they all three 
asked him at once. 

‘^Only once,” said Mr. Heel. walked in 
Brady & Dorgan^s, over Dale’s drug store, one 
night and watched the ball spin awhile; I took 
out a silver dollar from my pocket and placed it 
on number 35, and — ^would you believe it? — the 
ball dropped in number 35. The dealer paid it, 
and 1 pushed the checks on 23 and the ball 
dropped in 23. I shoved them all on number 8 
and 8 it came. Then I shoved them all on num- 
ber 17.” 

Kid Marshall and Eosenhurg looked at each 
other, hut said never a word.” 

^^Oh! I didn’t care whether I won or lost,” 
continued Mr. Heel; ^^so I sets the works on 
number 11. ^Kumber 11/ says the dealer. Then 
I bet them on single 0 — nothing hut single 0. 
I made one more bet. Shoved them all on double 
0. ^Double 0,’ says the dealer. I then said to 


122 


LONG DRA^VB. 


the dealer, ^Cash them checks/ The dealer puts 
the checks in the rack and hands me $28, and I 
left the place/^ 

^^Gesips,” says the scar-face. 

^^Gesipes,” says Eosenburg. 

^‘^Yon Ye it,” says Marshall. 

^That sticks yon for the suppers,” they all 
three exclaimed at once. 

^‘^Why, how Y that ?” asked Mr. Heel. 

^^Wh3^” rejoins Marshall, ^'You ’re a bigger 
liar than Smithy, the card-writer; there would 
not be enough money in the city of Chicago to 
pay your last bet.” 

^Ir. Heel started to get offended, but he saw 
it was no use, so he picked up the checks and 
they all started for the cashier’s desk. 

The checks called for $9.95 and he laid down 
a $10 note and drew five cents change. Eosen- 
burg saw that he was a trifle sore, so he winked 
at Tim and said to Sidney: ‘^How much did 
the suppers cost, Sid?” 

^^They cost $9.95,” answered Sid. 

‘^Why,” said Eosenburg, ‘That’s an outrage! 
I will never come into this place again.” 

Sidney C. Heel looked at Eosenburg fully five 
seconds, and then drawled out: ‘‘Not with me, 
you wonH/’ 


CARD 7. 

Several days afterwards I received a nice let- 
ter from J. Arthur, telling me what a lovely place 

the village of K Wisconsin, was. He also 

told me that learning the lumber business was 
dead easy, notwithstanding that he had been out 
hunting almost every day since his arrival; that 
he had also caught some fine fish. He stated 
that Mr. Bad ford was a hustler and that every- 
thing was running smoothly. He said that Mr. 
Badford was expecting Miss Violet there on a 
visit almost any day now, and that the next time 
he wrote he would have more to say. 

Scotty’s face had healed so that he was pre- 
sentable again when I received a note from Tim 
saying that he had seen Bed Jack, and that Jack 
had invited him and his friends to come up to 
his room and smoke opium with him that evening. 
Tim stated in his note that he had spoken for a 
night’s lay-off, and that it had been granted. He 
further stated that he would come up to Scotty’s 
room and get us, and then we would all go over 
on the West Side and hit the pipe. I informed 
Scotty, and he said: ^^Dudley, I will go where 
you go and do as you do.” 


123 


124 


LONa DRAWS. 


While we were talking, Tim rapped on the 
door and came in. Tim told ns when we went 
over not to say anything, hut just saw wood 
— that we would probably see and hear a great 
many strange things, hut to pay no attention to 
anything that we happened to see or hear. He 
said that hop fiends were the most peculiar set 
of people on earth, hut that they were all right 
after one once understood them. We sat and 
talked for some little time; had several drinks; 
then started for the West Side. 

We stopped in several places before we 
reached Eed Jack Wilson’s rooms. All the way 
over Tim kept telling us not to say or do any- 
thing, hut to simply take in everything and look 
wise. Scotty and I both promised to do this. 

When we rapped at the door, we were bade 
to enter, and the sight which I beheld I shall 
never forget as long as I live. Lying around the 
room in two circles were some fifteen or sixteen 
young fellows between the ages of twenty and 
thirty — I do not suppose there was one in the 
room over thirty, unless it was our host, Eed 
Wilson. His age might have been anywhere 
from thirty-five to forty-five. 

Tim introduced us to Eed Jack, who, in turn, 
spoke to the rest, saying: ^^Mr. Tim Sullivan, 
whom I guess everyone knows; also, a couple of 


LONG DRAWS. 


125 

his friends from New York — Mr. Dudley Kum 
Dum and Mr. Scotty Bolen.^^ 

We bowed. Jack invited us to have a drink, 
but we declined, stating that we had been drink- 
ing before we came over. Just then in entered 
another party of three, so Jack introduced us 
to the newcomers, and then got a couple of pil- 
lows and a tray, a little lamp, a sponge, a couple 
of long needles, a little tin can containing a 
black substance that looked very much like thick 
black molasses; he also brought out the queerest 
looking pipe one ever beheld. It had a long 
stem made of bamboo, a round bowl and a little 
hole in the center of it no larger than a pin 
head. 

Whilst Jack was making preparations for us, 
I surveyed the others around the sides of the 
room. Several were lying on pillows, while 
others were lying on each other^s legs; they 
formed a circle, one bein;^^ outstretched on the 
other. They were all well dressed. I noticed 
one thing in particular — the ejes of one and all 
appeared glassy. I observed that while one 
talked, the others kept silent, but that some 
one kept talking all the time. 

The chef, or cook, had the pillow, and he 
would dip his needle in the can and take out a 
little of the black gum on it about the size of 
a pea; hold it over the little lamp until it en- 


26 


LONCr DRAWS. 


larged to four or five times its natural size; then 
he would roll it for a second or so on the palm 
of his hand and then on the howl of the pipe; 
stick it on the bowl, pull it away three or four 
times, and then warm it a second or so over the 
lamp ; then he would roll it until he would get it 
as he wished it; then stick it on the bowl of the 
pipe and hand it to someone, who would draw 
away at it. He would hold the bowl over the 
fiame of the lamp, and if the stuff caught on fire 
or clogged up, he would draw it away from the 
lamp a second, press the substance down with 
his thumb, punch a hole in it with his , needle, 
then hold it over the lamp again until the smok- 
er had consumed it all. 

I noticed that while he was preparing the 
pill, that after he had once dipped his needle 
in the can and gotten the amount required on 
the end of the needle, the pill never got off the 
needle until he would place it on the bowl; even 
while he rolled it, it never got off of the needle; 
it was wonderful the skill he displayed in manip- 
ulating the little needle. 

The opium had the most delicious odor that 
T had ever experienced; in fact, the entire room 
was scented with the fumes. 

Jack called us over, told us to take off our 
coats and vests and to lie down on the floor the 
same as the others. After we had all gotten 


LQ-KG DRAWS. 


127 


arranged coinfortabl}^, Jack spoke up, sa^dng: 
“Gentlemen of the Yen Sche Gow Club, I sup- 
pose you all know our worthy friend, Mr. Tim 
Sullivan.^^ 

They all replied, “Yes.^’ 

“Well,^^ continued Jack, “Mr. Sullivan has in- 
vited two of his most intimate friends to visit 
our club — Mr. Dudley Rum Duni and Mr. Scotty 
Bolen. Mr. Rum Dum is from New York; he 
is a man of means and through Mr. Sullivan has 
invited us to help him drink a basket of cham- 
pagne. I know that there are a number present 
who do not care for wine, but as Mr. Rum Dum 
is our invited guest arid as everything here is 
voted on by acclamation, I put you to the vote — 
yea or nay.’’ 

Instantly the answer came, “Yea! Yea!” 

“’Tis well,” continued Jack. “One nay would 
have decided it the other way.” He glanced at 
me and I nodded him my thanks. (On the way 
over I had asked of Tim if we could send out 
and get something to drink in case we did not 
care to smoke, and he informed me that Jack 
could get us anything we desired after we had 
gotten into the room.) I had slipped $50 into 
Tim’s hand and repeated my request whilst Jack 
was getting things ready. The outcome of the 
matter was that Jack sent one of the boys out 


128 


LONG DRAWS. 


to telephone for the wine and we all lay down 
to hit the pipe for the first time. 

It was a large room and Jack made two cir- 
cles of eleven each. Jack did the cooking for 
our party and a man named Davis was the chef 
for the other ones. One queer thing about the 
gathering was that while one had the fioor and 
started to talk, ever3'’one else remained silent 
except when one of the party got up and went 
out of the room, when they would all commence 
to roast the one who had just passed out, and 
my ! what a roast that party would get ! 

As I stated before, we all lay around, one 
on another's legs, spoon fashion. I laid on a 
young fellow by the name of Dick Bolliver; he, 
in turn, on Fred Ballston; Scotty lay on my 
legs; and so on. 

Eed Jack had a pillow and started to cook 
a pill. He dipped his needle in the little tin 
can; got the required amount of opium; held it 
over the lamp. As it expanded it looked to me 
for all the world like old-fashioned yellow mo- 
lasses candy — that is, while it was cooking and 
before it got hard. 

As Jack rolled the first pill and prepared it 
I lay where I could get the full benefit of the 
fumes, and I remarked to Dick Bolliver at the 
time, ‘‘What a delightful aroma 


LOxV(? DRAWS. 


I2y 

Dick replied: ^^Yes; that aroma has caused 
many a man and woman to get the hunk habit/' 

‘^The hunk habit!” I ejaculated. 

“Why certainly,” said he; “I know hundreds 
of people who never smoked a pill in their lives 
who go to hop joints three, four and six times 
a week and lie around the stem while the others 
smoke ; and they will lie there five or six hours 
until their habit wears off.” 

I looked incredulous. 

“That^s right,” spoke up Jack and several 
others. 

1 found out that Dick Bolliver was a hoard- 
of-trade operator and a man who handled thous- 
ands of dollars every day. I also found out that 
Dick Avas quite a good single-handed liar. 

Just then a colored hoy came Avith the Avine. 
Jack ordered him to put it on ice and then sent 
him hack for two quarts of whisky. 

Dick, having the fioor, resumed, addressing 
his conversation to me: “I suppose, Mr. Eum 
Dum, you never heard tell of the great horned 
Tvodo of China?” 

“No,” I ansAvered. 

“Well,” continued Dick, “I am not surprised, 
as very few people ever did outside of opium- 
smokers: and for the sake of yourself and Mr. 
Bolen — vou both being strangers — I Avill relate 
Avhat I know of the great horned Kodo.” 


130 


Lom DRAWS. 


The Story of the Great Horned Kodo. 

^^During the reign of his most exalted maj- 
esty Yu Sep Gee, in the fore part of the fifteenth 
century. Whang Swe was the most important 
city in China, it being the capital and also where 
his majesty held court. It was, furthermore, 
the most beautiful city in the kingdom. Yu Sep 
Gee was, as everyone knows, the most enlightened 
monarch who ever ruled the kingdom. He was 
so far advanced that he held court and passed 
sentence on all criminals. 

^^At the time I mention. Whang Swe and all 
its inhabitants were in a state of terror. Thirty 
years prior, the great horned Kodo had visited 
the place, and over thirty thousand had fallen 
victims to it. The Kodo was a monster that came 
from the mountains of Thibet. It was part bird, 
part beast, and also amphibious, as it could fly, 
swim, or walk. It had a horn on its snout, wings 
over thirty feet wide and twelve legs. It always 
appeared after a storm, and it would remain for 
twenty or thirty days. Its touch was certain 
death. It had one large green eye, as large as 
a wash-tub. If it touched any plant, that plant 
would wither and die. The natives all knew 
when it was approaching, as it made a peculiar 
noise. Upon hearing this noise, the natives would 
hide themselves, sometimes for as long as thirty 


Loma DRAWS. 


I3I 

days. Of course, they were brave men who would 
not hide, especially if they were filled up on rice 
wine; but all who had^remained out in the open 
while the Kodo was around were always found 
dead afterwards. 

^^Well, at this time there was a very strict law 
against the use of opium, and whilst there were 
hundreds of the upper class who used it, still 
its use was considered a disgrace. Besides, there 
was a heavy penalty imposed on anyone caught 
either using it or having it in his or her pos- 
session; and only one man. Hip Lee, would take 
chances. He had a big cave in the mountains 
that had five or six private entrances, and any 
who desired to smoke could do so, provided 
they cared to take the chances which they would 
necessarily run. 

‘‘K report had come in to the Emperor that 
a number of his best subjects were smoking 
opium. He therefore ordered his chief mandarin 
to ascertain where the cave was located and 
to arrest everyone whom he found there and 
bring them before him, as he intended to break 
up the use of opium in his kingdom, once and 
for all. 

^^Well, amongst the mandarines vassals there 
was one named Ah Yet. How Ah Yet was a 
smoker himself, but he agreed to lead the man- 


132 


Lom DRAWS. 


darin to the cave in case he paid him thirty 
pieces of silver and granted him immunity. 

“Well, the raid was successful, and over sixty 
persons were arrested and thrown into dungeons. 
After they had been imprisoned over thirty days, 
awaiting a hearing, the Kodo scare came up. Hip 
Lee knew that if he ever went to trial, he stood 
not the ghost of a show, for whenever the Em- 
peror sentenced one person, the sentence applied 
to his whole family and all his relatives; for 
instance, if Hip Lee got a sentence of five years, 
it meant that himself and every relative he pos- 
sessed on earth would have to serve five years. 
So Hip Lee, having some silver, bribed one of 
his keepers to tell one of the mandarins that if 
the Emperor would agree to release him and 
those arrested with him, he (Hip Lee) would 
agree to get rid of the great horned Kodo; that 
in case he failed to do so, his head and the head 
of each of his relatives should be forfeited. 

“The Emperor was at that stage where he had 
no alternative; he would take any chance to get 
rid of this great monster ; so he agreed. Hip 
Lee called all of the prisoners together and ex- 
plained the condition of their release. They all 
agreed to co-operate, and were accordingly re- 
leased. Hip Lee at once repaired to his cave, 
followed by all the rest of his party. They en- 
tered the cave by one of the secret entrances, 


LOm DRAWS. 


133 


when, lo! there, in front of the main entrance 
of the cave, lay the object of their search — the 
great horned Kodo — fast asleep. 

^‘There being sixty persons in Hip Lee’s pgjty, 
lie got ten lay-outs and instructed his followers 
what to do. He appointed ten cooks, and they 
all lay down in front of the entrance and began 
to smoke and blow the smoke out of the en- 
trance, so that the Kodo could inhale the fumes. 
In a short time, the Kodo began to stretch. A 
few minutes more and the sweet water com- 
menced to run out of his eye, then he stretched 
some more; again and again did he repeat this. 
He started to get up, but lay down again. He 
rolled over on his hack in an ecstasy of delight; 
stretched once more; his big green eye popped 
out of his head ; he gave one more mighty 
stretch, when his head became loosened from 
his hpdy and the giant form was seen to col- 
lapse, and in a few minutes the horrible monster 
that had terrified the country for years was dead. 

^^As soon as the head had fallen from the 
body. Hip Lee knew that his work had not been 
in vain. He informed his friends that the mon- 
ster was dead, but they would not believe him 
until he went outside and brought the head in 
to hear out his statement. 


134 


LOm DRAWS. 


he laid the head down Hip Lee said 
one word — ‘Rubier’; hence the expression rubber 
neck.’’ 

We all glanced at Dick, hnt no one spoke. 
The negro started to serve the wine, and we all 
took a drink. Tucker, one of the members, 
got up, and, with the remark, “Excuse me,^^ took 
his departure. 

After Tucker had left, I got my first insight 
of a hop fiend^s social circle. 


CARDIS. 

“There goes as big a stiff as ever lived,” 
spoke up Fred Ballston as soon as Tucker had 
left. Now Tucker had impressed me as being 
very much of a gentleman, as he had had noth- 
ing to say all the time I had been in the room. 

“He's a lob,” spoke up another. 

“Always under cover,” spoke up another. 

“You guys donT know anything about him,” 
spoke up a fourth, named Jeune. “Let me tell 
you how that mutt treated me once in St. Paul. 
You all know me, and you all know that I am 
a pretty good fellow. Well, this duh has puffed 
mth me a half-dozen times, and not only that, 
hut I have, on numerous occasions, given him 
money with which to get his laundry out, and 
all that sort of thing. 

“Well, I lands in St. Paul last summer C. 
0. D. — didnT have a sou; and the first person 
I meets was this Gee, Tucker. Well, we shook 
hands. He was all ablaze. He had on a swell 
tog and a couple of rocks. He had a bunch 
of scratch that would choke a dog. 

“We had several drinks, and he asked me 
how I was fixed. I told him that I was all in. 


135 


136 


Lom DUAWS. 


and what do yon think? He had the nerve to 
hand me a dirty old twenty-dollar note, me 
not expecting him to peel off less than a hun- 
dred, and then he starts in to hand me that 
old stall that he was off of the stem — ^had taken 
the cure, but that he would introduce me to a 
friend of his named McDonald; that I could go 
up to his room and smoke off my habit. So 
we both go up to McDonald^s room. On the 
way up there Tucker stops in a Chink’s and 
buys a dollar card of hop, and as soon as he 
raps to McDonald and Mac gets out his lay- 
out, Tucker starts in and cops four big pills as 
large as your thumb-nail, before either I or 
^fcDonald gets framed up. McDonald don’t 
even have the suey poi damp. 

‘‘Now what do you think of that?” 

“Oh!” says Tim Sullivan, “he is a rat.” 

“Do you know him, Tim?” says I. 

“No,” says that worthy; “but that is not neces- 
sar}’- as long as he is outside of the room.” 

“And,” said I, “I suppose I should have 
jumped in and roasted him, too.” 

“Oh!” says Tim, “that would have been all 
right.” 

Just then a party came to the door and 
asked for Frank Stetson. Stetson stepped out- 
side the door to see what was wanted. He was 


Lom i)RA^YS. 


137 


back in a minute, before anyone had a chance 
to turn him over on the coals. 

He spoke to Jack and said: party just 

tells me my wife is sick, so I guess I will have 
to go up and see what the trouble is; but, as I 
live only a block from here, I will be back in- 
side of ten or fifteen mmutes.’’ 

Three or four of the boys spoke up and said : 
^^Be sure and come back, as we shall all expect 
you.^^ 

said he, “don’t worry; I will come 
back.’’ And as he picked up his hat and went 
out at the door he remarked: “Let me down 
light.” 

As the door closed Ballston said: “Yes, let 
him down light — Stetson is the most miserable 
man on earth. I am willing to bet my life he 
never spoke a good word for anyone he ever 
knew in his life.” 

“Well,” spoke up a young fellow by tlie 
name of Carleton, “I will bet that he will say 
that I am a good fellow, for, as you all know, 
only last month he got pinched and fined $50. 
Well, I had some money, and I not only paid 
his fine, but I also gave him money with which 
to pay his house-rent, got his overcoat out of 
soak and gave him $20 cash. I have never 
asked him for a cent of it back, because I know 
he has not had the money to repay me.” 


138 


LOl^Q DRAWS. 


says Ballston, ‘^you know that Gor- 
don setter of mine — the one I got from Gainey. 
Well, I paid $150 for it, and it is as fine a bird- 
dog as any one has. His pedigree is as long as 
a chorus-girFs dream. 

^^Well, I asked him what he thought of it 
the other day when he was up to my house, and 
I told him what I had paid for it. He only 
glanced at the dog and observed, Gle is no good 
— he is a dirty old cur.^ Couldn^t even speak 
a good word for my dog.^^ 

^^Weiy^ said Carleton, “I will bet a can of 
hop that if anyone asks him what kind of a 
fellow I am, that he will say that I am a good 
fellow.^^ 

^^All right,” said Ballston; ‘^you are on, but 
it is like stealing your coin. When he comes 
back, you stall out of the room for a few minutes 
and one of us will ask him what kind of a fellow 
you are, and if he says you are a good fellow, 
you win; if he don^t, you lose.” 

^^All right, it^s a bet — the club to decide.” 

Just then Stetson came hack. 

^^ell,” spoke up Jack, ^^anything serious with 
your wife?” 

^^Ho,” said Stetson; ^^only the toothache, and 
at that I think she was only stalling.” 

^^ell,” spoke up Carleton, H guess I will 
go across the street and get some fruit. I will 


LO:Na DRAWS. 


139 

be back in a few minutes/^ And he got up and 
passed out. 

After he had taken his departure, there was 
a deadly silence for about ten seconds. 

Then Fred Ballston spoke up to Stetson, 
saying: ‘^There^s a Gee I hardly know how to 
take. What kind of a man is he, Stetson ?” 

Frank Stetson rubbed his nose and stretched 
a second before answering: ^^Well, Fred, I donT 
know anything about him, but he has a brother 
that is the biggest stiff that ever lived.^^ And 
that was as near as Stetson could come to speak- 
ing a good word for anyone. 

Carleton came back and Ballston said: ‘^You 
blowed — you owe one can of hop to the club.^^ 

Carleton said nothing, but handed Bed Jack 
t$6.50. He would not ask for details, as he 
knew he must have lost; so he lay down with 
us, away from Stetson, and I started the ball 
a-rolling by asking Jack: ^^Why do you call your 
club the Yen Sche Gow Club?^^ 

replied Jack, ^‘Yen Sche Gow discov- 
ered the poppy plant. I suppose you never 
heard how the poppy plant was discovered. 
If everyone will give me his undivided attention, 
I will relate how opium was discovered/^ 

Everything became quiet and Bed Jack 
started his story. 


T40 


Lom DRAWS. 


The Story of the Poppy Plant. 

^^Well,” began Jack, the year 149G, four 
years after Christopher Columhus discovered 
America, a Chinese Buddhist priest presented 
himself at the palace of Sing Lee, the Emperor 
of China, and craved an audience. He was 
of a venerable appearance and carried a small 
hand-bag. He claimed to be a great traveler, so 
Sing Lee granted him a hearing. He started 
in to tell the ruler that he had just returned 
from America, that he had made the voyage 
four years previously with Columhus, and be- 
gan relating the wonders which he had seen. 
He informed the ruler that he was of noble 
birth, and that his ancestors had founded the 
Buddhist religion, and that he was one of the 
mighty four that had the privilege of entering 
or leaving the sacred White City of Lhassa. 
He went on to state that the world in general 
believed that no person ever left the White 
City, but that every twenty years the mighty 
four left in different directions to seek knowl- 
edge, and that they traveled all over the world. 
In support of what he said, he opened his bag 
and drew forth a lump of anthracite coal as 
large as one’s fist and handed it to the Emperor; 
also a large piece of glass and an Indian bow 
and arrow that he said came from the wilds of 


LOm DRAWS. 


141 

Indiana. The ruler was delighted with the 
presents; he drew from his bag a bamboo pipe, 
lamp and complete lay-out, and informed his 
majesty that he had only stayed in America a 
few months; then he longed to return. He had 
accordingly gathered a number of people to- 
gether and they built a ship and set sail for 
China. Yen Sche Gow was a great navigator, 
also a great magician, so he took charge of the 
ship and landed it on the coast of China with- 
in one hundred miles of Bot Gee — then the 
capital of China. He delivered a speech to his 
men, and requested them to leave the ship and 
accompany him overland to Bot Gee, the cap- 
ital. The men rebelled and left him to himself, 
and he started a-foot to seek the ruler. 

^^The first night he built a fire and started 
to cook something to eat. The only kind of 
fuel which he could obtain was some small 
bushes, and when he piled them on, he noticed 
the delightful odor they emitted. He there- 
fore analyzed them, and the result was about 
a quart of opium. Then he started to make a 
pipe, and before he left that spot ho had an 
opium pipe and lay-out — ^not as complete a one 
as we have ; still he obtained the same effects as 
we get. He asked the Emperor if he cared to 
puff, and the ruler replied that he would try it; 
so they repaired to the Emperor’s private cham- 


142 


Lom DRAWS. 


bers and Yen Sche Gow initiated the Emperor 
into all the delights of smoking opium. 

'The Emperor became very much enrap- 
tured and was so badly carried away with Yen 
Sche Gow that he tendered him the throne. 
The love was mutual. Yen Sche Gow was so 
overcome by the Emperor’s generosity that he 
picked up a tray and sword, and unsheathing 
the sword, he drew it and severed his own head 
and, placing it on the tray, handed it to the 
Emperor. Of course the Emperor would not 
accept it, and made Yen Sche Gow put the head 
back on his shoulders. 

"Now, when the Emperor handed Yen Sche 
Gow the head back, he accidentally turned it 
around, and Yen Sche Gow clapped it on wrong 
side to, so that the head faced the back. Now, 
Yen Sche Gow was a great magician, but he 
was not able to cut his head off the second 
time and replace it, so he had to leave it the 
way it now was. 

"The Emperor was very much overcome by 
the incident and tried to make amends, but 
could do nothing to better the situation. Yen 
Sche Gow got along all right, but everything 
that he did he had to do backwards. To show 
his people how great his regard was for Yen 
Sche Gow, the Emperor issued a decree that all 
his subjects should do everything backwards. 


LONa DRAWS. 


143 


^Tor instance, if they started to read a book, 
they must begin at the end and read to the be- 
ginning, or, in other words, to start at omega and 
finish at alpha; that is the reason the Chinese 
plays always begin at the end and wind up at 
the beginning. If a Chinaman builds a house, 
he starts at the top and builds downward. In 
fact, a Chinese always does things just the re- 
verse to what we do, and that is the way hop 
was discovered.’^ 

Everyone in the room was silent for fully 
thirty seconds, when I asked Scotty what he 
thought of the story. 

Scotty did not hesitate a second, hut blurted 
out : ‘‘1 think it is an unmitigated lie.” 

^^What!” exclaimed everyone in the room. 

^^Yes,” continued Scotty; ^fiiow could a mon 
cut off his own head and then put it hack on his 
shoulders ?” 

^^But,” said Bed Jack, ^ffhis happened over 
four hundred years ago.” 

don’t care if it happened eight hundred 
years ago; I don’t believe it.” 

^^Gentlemen,” says Jack, ^TVIr. Bolen is a 
stranger to our club and rules, but, of course, 
we can not tolerate an unbeliever; as you know, 
we have abandoned the Kangaroo Court, so we 
will try Mr. Bolen by acclamation. Is he guilty ? 
yea or nay.” 


144 


LOTO DRAWS. 


^^Yea! Yea!’^ came back the reply. 

Bolen, stand np and receive sentence.^^ 

Scotty stood np, looking a trifle scared. 

^^Mr. Bolen,” said Bed Jack, “you have 
broken one of our most sacred rules, and be- 
cause you know nothing regarding our rules I 
can not excuse you. Therefore I shall have to 
pass sentence, you to pay a fine of fifty cents; 
may the Lord have mercy on your poor soul.” 

Scotty looked relieved, and said to me: “I 
will pay the fine willingly, but I would not believe 
that story if I got fined a dollar.” 

After Scotty had paid his fine, the seance 
broke up and we all bade one another good- 
night. Scotty, Tim and I left together. 

We were all standing on a street-corner, wait- 
ing for a car, when Tim remarked : “Wait here 
a minute; I forgot my overcoat. It won’t take 
me a second to run back to the room and get it.” 

So Scotty and I stood on the corner to await 
his return. Presently Carleton, Ballston and 
Lick Bolliver came up and we all began to chat. 
Just then Tim came back with his coat on 
his arm. 

“Perhaps you think that Red Jack is not a 
beant,” exclaimed Tim. 

“Why, what’s the matter with him?” we all 
asked. 


LONG DRAWS. 


145 


^^Oh! nothing/^ replied Tim; ^^only when I 
went back for my coat, I heard someone talking 
m Jack^s room, and of course I stopped to listen, 
as I was imder the impression that we all had 
left there hut Eed Jack. Jack was roasting the 
life out of all of us — me in particular.” 

I spoke up, asking, ‘‘To whom was he roast- 
ing us, anyway?” 

“Why,” said Tim, “there was no one left in 
the room but the chairs, so he was telling the 
furniture what a lot of stiffs we were. What 
do you think of that?” 

“Well,” said Dick, “here comes a car for 
the South Side.” They all caught the car and 
went to their different homes, we accompanying 
Scotty to his stopping place. Then Tim and I 
repaired to the Turkish bath-rooms and put in 
the night there. 


CARD 9. 


The next day Scotty left Chicago to visit 
his sister, who lived up in Michigan. I accom- 
panied him to the depot and then I went back 
to the Eichelieu, where I found a message 
awaiting me from J. Arthur, stating that he, 
Violet and Mr. Eadford would be in Chicago on 
the 2:15 p. m. train. I just barely had time 
to get over to the depot to meet them. 

As they alighted from the train J. Arthur 
grabbed me by the hand and exclaimed : ^Allow 
me to present you to Mrs. Doughnut.’^ 

Violet was blushing and Mr. Eadford was all 
smiles. 

^^Well,” said I, ^^accept my congratulations; 
hut I think you should have wired me, so that 
I could have been present and stood up with you, 
J. Arthur.^^ 

^'Well,^^ said J. Arthur, ^^yesterday morning 
we neither one of us had any intention of get- 
ting married, hut I proposed that all three of 
us come to Chicago, and when we got to Mil- 
waukee, we had to lay there a couple of hours, 
and it was then that I proposed to Violet and 
was accepted. I insisted that the marriage 

146 


LONG DRAWS. 


147 


take place at once, so I secured a license and 
hunted up a minister and we had a plain ring 
ceremony, with ]Mr. Kadford and the minister’s 
sister as witnesses, and there you are.’^ 

^^Well,” said I, "of course, if that is the 
case, it is all right.’’ 

We secured a carriage and were taken to 
Violet’s home, where she broke the joyful tid- 
ings to her mother and brother. 

Mr. Eadford called me into an ante-room 
and informed me that everything was running 
smoothly; that he had $60,000 surplus money, 
and that his mill was running at its full capac- 
ity; that he had all the cars he needed, and that 
he had an option on ten thousand acres of good 
pine land down in Louisiana. He further stated 
that he could buy this land for $5 per acre, 
and that inside of five years it would be worth 
$30 per acre, and inquired of me what I thought 
he had better do. I told him to do as he saw fit. 
I also told him that the money which I had 
advanced J. Arthur I intended making the 
bridal couple a wedding-present of; that I was 
possessed of more money than I could ever 
spend myself. Mr. Eadford told me that he 
would go to Louisiana and buy the timber while 
he could get it; that J. Arthur and Violet could 
accompany him, and then they could go from 
there over to Havana on a wedding-tour. I 


148 


LOm DRAWS. 


assented to all Mr. Eadford proposed. Both 
Mr. Eadford and J. Arthur were desirous of 
getting away at once, so I rang for a cab, and 
as soon as it arrived J. Arthur and I entered 
and were driven to the Eichelieu. After some 
little talk, we went to a lawyer^s and I turned 
the papers over to J. Arthur. He was very 
much impressed by my action, and was loath to 
accept, but I finally prevailed. The next day 
the trio left for Louisiana. Violet^s brother, 
Mrs. Ethridge and myself saw them off. After 
they had taken their departure, I bade the folks 
adieu and went to my room, and to say that T 
had a touch of the blues would be putting it 
mild. Here I was ; J. Arthur had gone, Scotty 
had gone, and no one was left. 

Did I say ^^no one”? Oh, yes; I forgot. I 
still had Tim — dear old Tim ! I thought as much 
of Tim as of anyone I had ever met. There was 
but one thing against Tim, and that was the 
thought that he might be lying to me every now 
and then — one thing which I never could stand 
for. When I caught a person telling me a de- 
liberate lie, my respect for that party vanished 
at once. 

Well, I went to Hooley^s, and after the show 
I strolled over to Tim’s. There were no cus- 
tomers in the place when T arrived there, so 
I says to him : "‘Say, Tim, why do they call beat- 


DRAWS. 


149 


ing a faro bank ‘twisting the tiger’s tail’? They 
surely don’t mean that there is a tiger about the 
place, do they?” 

“No,” answered Tim; “but I will tell you 
something that happened one night at 119 South 
Clark Street, Condon & Dahl’s place — ^you know 
where it is,” says Tim. “Well, every Saturday 
night, when the big crowd had arrived, there 
would be a sign put up which read: ^American 
Hyronomous ; Upstairs.^ ” 

“Did you ever see it, Tim?” 

“No; I never got any further than the stud 
or faro table. I generally played stud, because 
my money would last longer, and as long as 1 
got a good long play for my money, I was sat- 
isfied. It must have been a terrible monster, 
ihougli. 

“As I was saying, one Saturday night, or 
rather, early Sunday morning, there had been 
a large crowd on both floors all night; we were 
busy playing poker, when all of a sudden we 
heard the greatest commotion — chairs were be- 
ing overturned, checks were falling all over the 
floor in the confusion, and the greatest uproar 
prevailed that I had ever witnessed. Policy 
Bob came running down the stairs. 

“ ‘What ’s the matter, Bob ?’ we all asked. 

“ ‘Don’t anyone go upstairs,’ he said ; ‘the 
hyronomous just got out of his cage. He ate 


LOiia DRAWS. 


150 

up three or four boosters, chewed up all the 
cheeks and then swallowed the case-keeper/ 

^‘Well, Dutch Jake, the manager, and Fred 
Hoyle and Bert Harris all ran upstairs and man- 
aged to get the beast subdued in some way/^ 

^^Is that the truth, Tim 
Certainly.” 

(The old doubt was still working.) Tim must 
be telling the truth. 

^‘Ask anyone,^^ says Tim, ^^and they will tell 
you the same.” 

believe you, Tim.” 

expect there are a good many grafters that 
wish they could afford to carry a hyronomous 
around with them, so as to keep the heel boost- 
ers from going South.” 

see in the morning paper that Harriman 
has assumed control of the Union Pacific. 
Smart man, that Harriman,” said I. 

^^Certainly is,” rejoined Tim. ^^So is George 
Gould, Jacob Shift and many others. A man 
has to be smart to hold his money nowadays. 
It does not take ver}^ many bloomers to put a 
man on the hog. Take the case of David 
Mackey, of Evansville, Ind., president of the E. 
& T. H. Railroad. He owned the greater part 
of the E. & T. H. Railroad. He also owned a 
large mercantile house, hotel, several coal mines, 
and was interested in half a dozen other large 


WNa DRAWfi. 


I5T 

enterprises. He got tangled up in a couple 
of jack pots and went hu7iip — got completely 
cleaned out; was left without a dollar on earth 
and had to go to work keeping hooks, or some 
such employment, in some town over in the 
gas belt in Indiana, at $60 per month. It is 
said of him that he did not know one of his 
own conductors on his own road, personally. 
That^s had if it is so,^^ continued Tim. ‘T 
claim that no matter how much money a man 
may become possessed of, he ought to make it 
a point to become acquainted with as many of 
his employees as possible. By this I do not 
mean that they should smoke the same pipe.^ 
Why, all those persons to which I alluded are 
minnows.^^ 

“Sor says I. 

^^Yes, all pan fish,^^ says Tim. ^^Old J. J. Hill, 
of the Great Northern, has forgotten more about 
finances than all the rest of the bunch ever 
knew. Why,” continued Tim, waxing up, ^^you 
could take old J. J. Hill to-morrow, broke, let 
him go to work on the section, and inside of 
three weeks he would he section boss; three 
months^ time and he would he road-master; 
when a year had elapsed he would be superin- 
tendent, and by the time five years had rolled 
around you would find him president. That 
man is what I call a hustler. I have seen per- 


52 


JjONO draws. 


soils roast the life out of him one minute and 
champion him the next. Old Jim^ makes every 
engine he possessed of earn its full capacity; 
every piece of track, every box-car, must do its 
part. He improves his property as he can afford 
it, not at the expense of the stockholders. Why, 
do you suppose that if J. J. had been pres- 
ident of the C., B. & Q. Eailroad there would 
have been any nineteen million strike? No. 
A thousand times. No. Yet a great many per- 
sons speak of nineteen million as if it were but 
thirty cents. But,” resumes Tim, ^^nineteen 
million is a big sum of money. If you don’t 
think it is, go out and try to borrow it. No; 
no. Jim would have patched it up in some way 
or another. Now, Billy, don’t think that I 
mean J. J. Hill is easy, for he is far from it; 
he is as hard-headed as flint, but if his men 
can show him a point and there is any shade, 
they will get it. 

remember that once the men had some 
grievance and they were about to declare a 
strike. Jim thought that they were wrong and 
took the matter in his own hands. He generally 
let Mr. Ward, the vice-president, attend to strike 
matters, but, as I said before, this time he was 
worked up. He inserted advertisements in the 
Chicago and in the St. Louis dailies which read 
like this: 


LO'SfQ DRAWS. 


153 


“ ^WANTED. — Eii'ty brave men to guard rail- 
road property ; must be brave ; wages $5 per 
day. Cali at Koom 309 Great Northern Budd- 
ing, St. Paul, Minn., April 11th, at 10 o’clock 

a. m." 

/^Well, at the appointed time Mr. Hill 
stepped into the room. There were over fifty 
men in answer to the ad, and they were beauts — 
very much so; some had bum lamps, some had 
flat wheels, some had ugly scars on their faces, 
a few had an ear missing, while both orbs were 
minus from one or two. In fact, there was not 
one man in the whole fifty that did not look like 
a scarred veteran. 

“Mr. Hill sized them up and spoke thusly: 
^Gentlemen, I think you must have misunderstood 
my advertisement. I advertised for hrave men.’ 

“ AVell,’ spoke up one, T guess we ’re as 
brave as you can find.’ 

“Mr. Hill shook his head and slowly replied : 
^No, no; you men won’t do a-tall; not a-tall.’ 

“Then he spoke up suddenly: ^Go bring me 
the boys who did this to you fellows — they are 
the boys I wish.’ 

“Then he strode out of the door; went to 
Mr. Ward and told him to adjust the differences 
to suit himself.” 

Just then a little dried-up Irishman came 
into the place. He was rather tipsy; he had a 


^54 


LOT^a DRAWfi. 


Yvliiie fi.sli protnidiiig from his coat pocket. It 
had a string around it and a piece of paper 
about half as largo as a paper dollar attached 
to the string. I supposed that he had purchased 
it in the fore part of the evening to take home, 
but had stopped at so many saloons to get one 
more drink, and had laid it down on the bar 
in the pools of beer so many times that the 
paper had become wet, and that he must have 
finally become tired of picking the package up 
and laying it down so many times that he had 
stuffed it in his pocket. It was covered with 
dirt and sawdust. 

He started to tell Tim about being over to 
the house of David, and that someone had placed 
^^dy-a-mite’^ in his pipe. 

He sa3'^s to Tim : want something to ate.' ’ 

“Well,” rejoins Tim, “discard before you 
draw.” 

“Ah!” snaps the little Irishman, “I have 
money, if that^s what you mane.” 

“Well,” says Tim, ^^ow would you like some 
nice roast ham?” 

“J abbers ! no,” says he. “I ’ve had nothing 
but ham and corn beef and cabbage to ate for 
the last three months.” 

“Well,” continues Tim, ^Tiow would you like 
some nice boneless liver?” 

^TSTo,” says the chaw; “I want some chicken.” 


LOl^G DRAWS. 


155 


‘‘What!^^ says Tim, ‘‘you little dried-up, an- 
tiquated, fossilized, deodorized package of aches 
and pains — to the tall timbers with you. 
Avaunt 

The Turk started for the door, muttering^ 
“You think because a man works for a living 
that his money ainT as good as anyone else’s.^^ 

“If I had fed him,^^ remarks Tim, “he would 
have stuck here all night and driven a number 
of good customers away.^^ 

“You are it, Tim, in throwing the scare. 
Did you see the fish” I continued, “protruding 
from his pocket?” 

“Yes,” said Tim. “I never told you about 
going out fishing for mountain trout in Colorado, 
did I, Dud?” 

“ITo,” I replied. 

“Well, I was out in Cripple Creek during 
the boom, and a number of us fellows made up 
a party to go out for trout. Tom Eich got a 
big wagon and loaded in several ca^es of beer 
and a good supply of whisky, and we all piled 
in. There was quite a bunch of us. Among 
the number were Cheese Head Sam, Fifteen 
Two, Step and a Half, and Alabam, Jack Mc- 
Cloud, Billy Brooks, Link Marsh, Tom Larimore, 
G. Y. Gray, Billy Eothwell or Young Corbett 
and myself. „ 


156 


LO.VG DRAWS. 


•^Corbett was sparring around Cripple Creek 
with anyone who came along. About the only 
one near his size was Dago Mike. Any time 
that Corbett sparred with lieddy Coogan or 
Davey Wray or any of the rest around there, 
he had to give away from fifteen to twenty 
pounds, but he took them all on. I remarked to 
him at the time that someday he would be the 
champion of the world, but he only laughed 
and spat at a crack in the floor. 

‘AVell, as 1 said, we all started out to fish, 
but before we reached the creek, everyone of 
the push was drunk except young Eothwell and 
niAself. We went out to fish, not to drinh. 
So we took our poles, lines and bait and started 
toward the creek. 

‘AVell, 1 caught five or six nice trout when 
I came to a canyon that looked very enticing. 
1 always was a fiend to prospect, and was al- 
ways picking up float, so I laid my pole down 
and started up the canyon. I gathered some 
nice specimens and was so much interested in 
my employment that I paid no attention to my 
surroundings. Suddenly I heard a great noise 
behind me and glanced back. Believe me or not, 
Dudley, there were three monster grizzly bears, 
each weighing from nine to twelve hundred 
pounds, coming directly toward me. I tell you 
I made great haste to get out of that canyon. 


LONa DRAWS. 


157 


I ran fully a mile before I reached the end, 
when, goodness gracious! what do you think? 
Nothing but a blind canyon in front of me, on 
one side of which immense cliffs towered iully 
five thousand feet; on the opposite side a yawn- 
ing chasm, a mile to the bottom! The bears 
behind me and nothing, not so much as a pen- 
knife, with which to defend myself. What a 
predicament ! 

^^Dudley, have a cigar.^^ 

^‘^No,^^ says I. ^'How did you get out of it?” 

^^Say, Dudley, we have some swell Spanish 
stew; let me bring in two orders for you and I.” 

“No, no,” says I; “I donT want anything to 
eat. All I wish to know is how you got away 
from those bears.” 

Tim looked foolish, hummed and hawed, and 
then blatted out: “Well, Dudley, I never got 
away; the bears ate me up.” 

“At last! at last!” says I. 

1 had finally caught Tim in a lie; not a mis- 
take, but an eighteen-carat lie. I gave Tim one 
look and fled. 


CAKD 10. 

It has been over a year since I have been in 
Chicago. After catching Tim in that bare- 
faced lie, I went to my room and packed my 
belongings, and the next day saw me on my 
journey hack to New York, and I decided to 
stay there. But here I lind myself hack again 
in Chicago, and all on account of a telegram 
which I received from J. Arthur, telling me to 
come at once; so I could not do otherwise than 
come. 

My arrival in Chicago was the day follovdng 
the one on which the Derby was run. The old 
feeling came over me — I would go and hunt Tim 
up. I went to the old spot — the restaurant was 
gone; I dropped in several places and ordered 
coffee. I inquired of the waiters if they were 
acquainted with Tim Sullivan; none of them 
knew him. It seemed as if there had been a 
strike in all the establishments and the ^diashers” 
had all been brought from other towns. The 
more difficult it became to find his whereabouts, 
the more anxious I became to find him. I walked 
up one street and down another. Everything 
was strange and new. I started for the north 


158 


LONG DRAWS. 


159 


end of Clark Street; came to a saloon between 
Madison and Washington streets; stopped in front 
of a sign which read: “Humphrey & Dailey.” 
Surely I had heard those names before — ^then I 
remembered that Tim had introduced them to 
me one night in a restaurant. I stepped inside; 
there was quite a crowd in the place and amongst 
them the first person whom I saw was Tim Sul- 
livan sitting at one of the tables, with his head 
all bandaged. I walked up to him and stuck out 
my hand — he knew me at a glance. I invited 
the house to have a drink, which was accepted 
by one and all. Tim and I took our drinks and 
sat down at one of the tables to talk. 

“How have they been coming with you, Tim ?” 
I asked. 

“Oh!” says Tim, “I have a tale of woe as long 
as a chorus-girFs dream.” 

“But the head?” I observed. 

“Oh !” says he, “T fil tell you all about that. 
IVe had nothing but hard luck for a year; I 
couldnT even win a bet for another man. About 
a month ago, I dropped in to Humphrey’s room. 
There was a gang of boys playing whist for two 
and a half a corner. Humphrey and Jimmy 
Blake were partners; Bull Harrington and Mc- 
Oaffrey were their opponents. Humphrey is a 
fine w-hist-player ; he can keep track of the cards 
clown to the irays, and be can also see a, bad 


i6o 


LOW DRAWS. 


play before it is made. I revoked on him once 
with two cards in my hand, wherefore he was not 
very badly stuck on my whist-playing. There 
were only the four in the room when I dropped 
in. The score was 6 to 0 in favor of Humphrey 
and Blake, when some girl came to the door and 
asked for Blake. Blake says: Tlay my hand, 
Tim; we are six to nothing; donT let them jink; 
try and hold them to the odd.’ Humphrey had 
the very strongest of rules, one of which was, 
if anyone exposed his hand, he forfeited the 
game. I shuffled and dealt the cards, turned up 
the five of spades, picked up my hand, and — 
believe me or not — I had all the thirteen trumps. 
TIa, ha!’ said I to myself ; T ’ll show Mr. Hum- 
])hrey that I can play whist as good as anyone 
on earth.’ 

^^Harrington led off with the king of hearts; 
Humphrey put on the ace; McCaffrey, the four 
of diamonds; I looked wise and put on the 
nine of spades. 

^‘Humphrey gave me one look and yelled: 
‘^What kind of whist-pla 5 dng do you call that?’ 
— threw his hand out the window, and we lose 
the game.” 

^That was pretty tough,” I remarked; and I 
ordered another round of drinks. 

^niut your head, Tim ; your head ?” I insisted. 

H’m coming to that,” says Tim. After the 


LONG DRAWS. 


i6l 


whist game, I made up my mind not to gamble 
any more at anything. But the old feeling came 
over me yesterday — Derby Day, you know — and 
I had been saving up my money for a month; I 
had $40 saved and I wanted to play something, 
but could not make up my mind which horse to 
play. I Avent to bed the night before the Der- 
by and had a dream. I dreamed that I was on 
top of a high building and fell olf of it right 
a-straddle of a picket fence. 

‘^^It was eleven o^clock when I awoke. The 
dream was so vivid that when I got dressed, I 
says, T ^ve got the winner — the Picket.’ I started 
down stairs; the minute that I reached the front 
yard, I noticed two pickets missing from the 
fence. ‘^Another hunch, ^ says I. I walked less 
than a block when my attention was attracted 
by four or five little boys playing shinny — and 
I hope to die if they Averen’t playing with pick- 
ets — it was too strong a hunch for me. I went 
back to the house, got my suit-case, put my dress 
suit in it — the one 1 always wear when I serve 
banquets — took my watch and everything that I 
could get a dollar on, and took them over to 
Weber’s hock shop. I was acquainted with 
Weber, so he let me have $35; that, with the 
$40 I had, made $75; and I intended to bet it 
all, every cent, straight. That hunch is good 


i 62 


LONG DRAWS. 


enough for anyone; I think that Louis Young 
would even stand a tout on it. 

started over to State Street to catch a car 
for Washington Park; I stopped on the corner 
of Harrison and State streets and I very nearly 
fell dead when 1 saw a drunken Gee standing 
alongside of me with a punch of pickets on his 
shoulder; he stood right at my side. I looked 
for a car; one was coming; someone yelled, 
^Hlello, Bill!^ I turned to see who it was. The 
drunken guy turned at the same time and hit 
me a wollop on the side of the head with that 
hunch of pickets and I went down and out. 
They carried me inside of a drug store and 
worked on me for two or three hours before I 
came around. When I finally did come to, I 
went outside and caught a car- Louis Young 
was on the car and I told him all. 

^^He said : T ’m afraid we are too late. I 
have just gotten hack to town — have been over 
to St. Joe, Michigan; hut if we get out in time, 
I fil bet a couple of hundred on the Picket, and 
if he wins in, I fil split the winning with you.^ 

^All right,’ says I ; ^he will win a city block.’ 

^Tle paid the car-fare; he also had with him 
a couple of tickets which he had gotten from 
someone when he got off of the train. He gave 
me one of the tickets. 


LONG DRAWS. 


163 

^‘Well, we finally got out to the track — and 
what a crowd there was! By the time we got 
to the betting-ring, the American Derby had 
been run, and, as everyone knows, the Picket 
won easily. I almost cried. ^BuV says I, ^may- 
be I can beat the next race. I will bet the $4o 
anyhow.^ 

fanned myself, but my bunch of scratch 
was gone — I did not have a cent. Someone had 
touched me while I lay senseless. 

looked around for someone from whom I 
could get car-fare, but — ^believe me or not — out 
of seventy thousand people there, not one could 
I find whom I knew, so I had to walk home.^^ 

^‘Tim,^^ says I, ^^they might tie you, but they 
can't beat you. Kerens a century note; go and 
play clothes, straight; meal ticket, a place; and 
room rent, to show.^^ 

Then we fell on each other^s neck and wept. 


Finis. 


/ 



I 


LONG DRAWS 


By W. M. PRESTON 

Copies of this book may be had by addressing 

Charles A* Ainsworth 

2625 Mont gall Avenue 
KANSAS QTY, MISSOURI 

¥ 

Price, 25c per Copy 

¥ 

FOR SALE BY 

ALL NEWSDEALERS 

¥ 

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IN WHOLESALE QUANTITIES 
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